I was a child of divorce who lived with my mother. Dad left us for a younger woman and my mother never forgave him until the day she died. And because I so reminded her of him, she had a sort of love/hate relationship with me.

I bloomed a little late - which was made later by the fact that I was skipped a grade. For some reason somebody thought I was an intelligent child. This, I fell more behind my peers.

One day, I was riding in the car with mom and a couple of friends when the subject of jock straps came up.

That's when mom hit the group with the zinger: "Billy doesn't need a jock strap. He needs something to put in it."

Kids didn't fuck with me that way because I was a superior athlete. And that goes for a lot with early teenagers.

As for mom? She exorcised a few of her demons by attacking my father through me. I understood that and lived through the abuse. And shortly thereafter the jock got filled.