My Mom Is A Parasite

I was molded into a top student by my mom’s thousands of slaps.

From the time I could remember, a single point off would earn me a slap.

Sleeping a minute too long? Another slap.

Under her strict regime, I quickly excelled.

I got into her dream college.

Worried I’d slack off, she moved into my dorm, slapping me into shape.

As she wished, I got into Yale for my master’s.

She became a renowned "educator."

On the first day of school, she moved into my dorm again.

Basking in the spotlight, she boasted.

But I tied two towels together.

Hung them on the bathroom faucet.

Slipped my head in.

And ended it all.

1

I was never cut out for studying, but my mom refused to admit it.

She considered herself smart, just held back by a poor family background.

She believed I inherited her intelligence.

So, I was supposed to excel academically.

But from kindergarten, I lagged behind other kids in everything.

A nursery rhyme that took other kids a day to learn took me three.

So, my mom slapped me daily.

Eventually, my dad couldn’t stand it.

He suggested having another child to make up for my lack of smarts.

But mom was adamant. She would mold me into success.

She wanted to prove to the world that there were no bad students, only bad parents.

Thus began my hellish training.

It started in first grade.

Mom said that a slow bird must start flying early, cutting my sleep time to cram study sessions.

I went to bed at 11 PM and got up at 6 AM.

If I nodded off, she’d slap me.

Under her regimen, I got used to little sleep.

But in class, I couldn’t help yawning.

The teacher reported this to my mom.

Mom decided to sit in my class for a week.

She brought a steel needle with her.

Every time I nodded off, she’d poke my leg.

By the end of the week, my legs were punctured and bloody.

But I stopped dozing off.

Mom was thrilled.

The teacher, not knowing the truth, asked her for tips to share with other parents.

When mom showed the bloody needle, the teacher was speechless.

That semester, I got perfect scores in Math and English.

Mom proudly took photos of the test papers and shared them to the families.

She told me, "Show them there are no dumb kids, just parents who don’t know how to teach."

Seeing her so happy, I asked if I could sleep early during the break.

She coldly replied, "One set of perfect scores and you’re getting lazy? Maybe I haven’t been hitting you hard enough."

From then on, I learned to keep my mouth shut.

2

That perfect score gave my mom a new purpose in life.

She became a firm believer in "spare the rod, spoil the child."

Every day, she used her limited knowledge to tutor me.

She didn’t just demand high scores on finals but also on every small quiz.

Whenever my grades dipped, she would storm to school, demanding answers from the teachers.

In fifth grade, my homeroom teacher mistakenly marked one of my test answers wrong, costing me a point.

That night, mom found out and went ballistic.

The next day, she dragged the teacher to the principal’s office and yelled, "Is th...