Mama had a goat named Nannie. I can’t remember why in hell we had a goat. We didn’t live on a farm or anything. Nannie had little curly horns that...always made me think of Princess Leia’s hair. When we had a get together it was an ongoing joke to walk over to the little goat and bend over in front of her. For some reason that pissed her off. Every time she would hike up on her back legs and heat butt you square in the behind. I remember my sisters would bring their hot shot boyfriends and trick. "Did he beat y... " Maggie began, but before she could finish her question, Sheila cut in."The bastard. The dirty stinking bastard did more than that. I hate him, God I hate him, and Mum, what does she care? Oh, no mustn't upset dad. Where would she get the money for her clothes then? How would she be able to go to the hairdressers once a fortnight hmmm. Oh, no, nothing must upset her sense of security. She doesn't give a shit about me. She's as bad as him. All she thinks about is money. Well. More

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