I'll Be a Mommy's Uncle! by DiscipleN
It's was dull around the house after my father died. You never know what you're going to miss about a person until he's gone. I'll never miss his cocaine frenzies or the occasional flings he flaunted before mom, but my father was a pretty fun guy otherwise. I was pretty young to be certain of my memories of the time he spent with me, but I know I was never bored. When I turned eleven, it seemed like the three previous years without Pop were one eternal drag after another.
You see my mother was very strict and proper, and she decided, soon after my birth, to ensure I never followed the outlandish path of my father. Curfew was instilled in me the day I left the crib. Sundown meant straight to bed, lights out, and no noise. I could play with friends, but only from after school 'til dinner time, five o-clock. She dressed me conservatively, short haircut, comfortable brown shoes probably designed by the Amish, and she only bought starched white shirts and permanent press gray or tan trousers. I was drilled in every pleasantry and courtesy, and learned manners fit for a duke. In religion she was a tad more flexible, Methodist or Southern Baptist. She took me to both every Sunday.