My mother was a doormat who did whatever my father wanted her to do. She had me when she was 20 and I became the target of her anger. You'd think my father beat the system and was happy. Nope. That anger still seeps out even if it's passive aggressive and besides I don't think N's are ever truly happy. To the public my mother was the epitome of a southern belle. She was beautiful, charming, people loved her, but no one knew what she was like behind closed doors. My sister and I called her mommie dearest or the Godmother as in cross her and you'll find a severed horse head in your bed.
