My mother ruled with an iron fist, because her mother ruled with an iron fist and so on and so on since the beginning of time. In the Caribbean culture tiny people are to be seen and not heard. Crushed into model citizens. This never worked for me and decades of therapy make it easier to live my life outside of that hurt. Yet there are some days in the mire and trenches of motherhood where I’m tempted to act off of instinct, and not learned behavior. A few days ago after one of THOSE mornings sprinkled throughout motherhood. Noon said “mommy I don’t like you.” Devoid of the sass…