I had a favorite toy in my room which was a brown rocking horse. I rode my horse for many years and named him Brownie. He was also a friend like a giant and hard stuffed animal. I would talk to him as I came into my room and tell him about my day in school. It’s true by fifth grade I had stopped riding him. But I still would come into my room every day and talk to him. One day towards the beginning of the school year, I came in and he was missing. I ran into the family room and just started wildly asking my mother where he went. She said I was too old for the rocking horse. He was now in Brian and Hannah’s room. And that was it. He was just gone and I couldn’t get him back. I knew what would happen to me if I brought him back into my bedroom. Nothing good. I went in and looked at Brownie in his new home. I was so angry I just stood there crying. My mother had always done this to me. Once she thought I was done with something, she took it away from me and gave it to them. It was a good way to foster jealousy and hatred. That was my mother’s goal whether she knew it or not. I really don’t know that her motivations were completely conscience on her part. But the end result was always the same. Growing resentment heaped on an already big pile. Good bye, Brownie. Good bye, piece of my childhood. I had Brownie for a few years. Brian had Brownie a few weeks before it was broken. You can better believe this caused a great deal more anger, fury, resentment and eventual hatred of Brian.