I’d done something naughty – mom had hauled me in from play and was scolding me about it. At some point she must have asked me why I had done whatever I’d done. I told her she couldn’t blame me but had to blame God, because it was all predestined.
Mom dragged me into the bathroom, lathered up the bar of soap and washed my mouth out with it. I was busy spitting the soap out of my mouth so I didn’t see her pick up her hairbrush from the vanity unit. Before I knew it, I was being dragged back into the kitchen.