My mother comes up behind me and slaps me on the butt. It really hurts and I say, "Mom! that really hurt." She snaps, "Don't be silly." And I follow her and say, "I mean it, you really hurt me sometimes." And she says, "It's just your arthritis; it makes you sensitive." And I say, "No, even when I was a child, you would hurt me lots of times." She is angry at me. I turn and walk into the kitchen and I look for a drawing of Ellie holding Charla (a profile like my lake Michigan picture of holding Ellie). My mother had drawn the picture. It's very sweet and cute. She accidentally drew another picture on the same paper right under it. I wanted to make a Xerox copy of it. I see two half smashed like butts on the sink of dirty dishwater and I reach to put them out, because they are my mother's and this is a silly, childish revenge. She sees me and says, "Oh, no you don't." I try to snub them out, but she hits me on the butt. I cry, "Oow! Don't." And I try to hit her back. I scratch at her chest and try to hit her arm. Finally I grab the front and side of her dress and start swinging her back and forth to smash her up against the counters that are at a 90 degree angle. I smash her to the left and back to the right. I'm screaming "Oooh," like a siren up and down and she is trying to get at me to stop me.