Those kinds of homes aren't necessarily orderly ones. My parents were the hop-to kinds of people demanding immediate and perfect compliance. But, home was chaotic and horder-messy. With all the abuse we lived through, the only time CPS came to our house was when the next to youngest, our Dawny, went to kindergarten in worn, stained clothes with badly matted hair.

And of course, after CPS left, it was all my fault because I was supposed to make sure Dawny and Deloris were ready for school every morning. I was also supposed to make Father's morning tea and my sisters and my cereal. I think I was nine years old at the time.