Sometime during my 7th grade school year, my Mom kicked my Dad out. My Dad was very upset and didn’t want to go. I don’t recall being sad about him moving, but sad because he was so sad. I had never seen my Dad cry. In a way, I was happy that he was moving. I really thought he was darn right me. I still think he was a little mean, but overall I think he was just being a parent.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this is when things changed. We were no longer a two parent household. We didn’t have two parents trying to earn a living to support one household, and watch out after the four kids. Now we had my Dad away from home, and not always living in the best environment trying to support himself. I can't comment on if he was paying child support or not, it wasn't talked about. We had my Mom working two jobs, and relying on assistance for food and medical. There was no longer two parents at home to catch us kids when we were up to no good. Most of the time we didn’t have to sneak around, because there was no one home paying attention to us. Maybe we were doing the wrong things to get attention, but no one noticed. Sure we were going to my Dad’s sometimes, and he came around, and yelled if he saw boys hanging with his girls, but he wasn’t there in the day to day life. Either was my Mom, because she was working two jobs, and had a new boyfriend.
I spent 7th grade between two schools and probably skipped more than I went. I just couldn’t stand middle school. I never gave it a chance. I started skipping right away. I was young and who needed school anyways was my thoughts. Well enough for now.