Parenting was never hard for me. I was told ‘babies don’t come with a manual.’ No, they don’t, but mine mysteriously came with a remote.

I was knocked out; drugged as the pain was just too much to handle; I’d been naive to think I could handle childbirth because ‘women were the stronger sex’. We might be stronger but pushing a fireball out your lady parts certainly broke me.

I awoke to a fuss of midwives in my room and a screaming child. And a small remote tucked into my hand; I thought it was for pain relief so I hit that shit hard. The baby stopped fussing; the midwives didn’t.

The baby didn’t nurse well, but when I tried skin to skin contact along with a tap tap tap on this small USB sized remote, all went well. The baby ate. I was still in pain. But the baby did what I and it needed.

Step forward 20 years, and I’m back in the hospital; a different one but still with fussing nurses.

I’m dying.

And my daughter is beside me, distraught; she’s too young to lose me.

She’s never learned to think for herself or stand up for herself. Whenever she became a ‘handful’ I’d find the remote and tap tap tap.; she’d fall into line. Whether it was as a toddler, a teen or now a young adult, if she did something I didn’t like, I’d take the easy way out. Tap tap tap.

I tried not to use it. I really did! But there’s no reasoning with a toddler; who wants to listen to a toddler scream in the grocery store because I won’t let her eat her boogers. A tap made shopping easier. A tap made puberty a walk in the park, and the first boyfriend, who was a definite loser, was easily dispatched.

I was commended for what a ‘great kid’ I raised alone; for how ‘close we were’ and what great decisions she makes!

The truth is that I was a terrible parent and took the easy way out ALL THE FUCKING TIME! I didn’t teach my daughter anything.

I’m dying; I should be dead within days. Should I give her the remote?