Irene C Cassorla
42 years ago my mom and dad started to tell their little girl a story.
It was about a “good girl” who ate all her veggies, and went to bed early. She made straight A’s, sang in the choir and volunteered at the nursing home. They said good girls didn’t smoke, or drink or do drugs. They didn’t have sex before marriage and they were expected to be in the front pew of The First United Methodist Church with their family every Sunday morning.They said I was a good girl as long as I stayed on the confined pages of their book.