Yes, she was a woman, but nobody had ever taught her what being a woman entailed. Before her mother could get around to teaching her daughter the intricacies of what being a woman was all about, both Amanda’s innocence and family time had been filched by the selfish, greedy, low-down Mr. Sillow. So it was no surprise that when amniotic fluid began draining down her legs as she was eating breakfast in her kitchen early one morning she had mistaken it for urine and believed the ensuing labor contractions to be the result of some recently-ingested food that her stomach didn’t agree with. Unable to move due to the immense pain that had suddenly taken a paralyzing grip on her, Mrs. Sillow remained seated, slumped back in her chair at the kitchen table. About 20 minutes later, with the pain only worsening, she felt as though she was sitting on something. Strange. There was some kind of object situated in between her vulva and the hard wooden seat. After fighting through her discomfort to raise her body into an upright seated position, Mrs. Sillow reticently pulled up her nightgown into the fold between her stomach and thighs. Slowly looking down between her legs, she saw the crown of her infant daughter’s head jutting out of her. As though she had lost all sensation to the throes of childbirth, the startled Mrs. Sillow sprang up out of the chair and confusedly made her way to the bathroom in a dizzying haste, where she immediately took a seat upon the commode and began aiding her body in its natural attempt to expel the child out of her. The pain was exorbitant, and Mrs. Sillow desperately wanted to chuck her delivery efforts, but the baby’s torso was already visible. She only had half of the baby’s body left to push out. Finally, after about 10 more minutes of heavy panting and grueling grunts, there was a light sploshing sound in the toilet. Mrs. Sillow’s first proper sighting of the placenta-covered specimen sent her into a panic, and the new mother frantically began washing her baby off right inside of the germy toilet bowl that she had been delivered in. Then, after making a thorough inspection of the body for any irregularities, the proud new mother gave her daughter the name of Sondra Mayleeyala Sillow.
After noticing how much money his wife’s snatch was making for him back in the day, Mr. Sillow rarely bothered dabbling into other aspects of the black market. However, he was busy tending to some illegal matters on the morning of his daughter’s birth. Upon his arrival home later that day, the despotic brute was brought to tears at the first sight of his little girl. It was one of the few times that his wife had ever seen him shed a tear for anything. That was when she knew without question that he truly was ready and willing to be a good father to his tenth child. Deep down inside, beneath all of his belligerent bullshit and his idiosyncrasies, Mr. Sillow had to have regretted walking out on his dependents many years earlier. All his life he had thought of himself as a failure, and he was sick and tired of disappointing everybody he was presently or had ever been associated with at one point or another. Apart from his nine oldest kids, he had also been a let down to his father and stepfather; the two of his wives; his high school teachers and principal; and, most regrettably, he had let down his well-beloved Mr. Garrett. Now in his mid-80s, he was bent on not being a disappointment to Sondra. He felt that he had to make good on his last chance to have a healthy and meaningful relationship with somebody, and that desire drove him to want to be the perfect father and friend to his little girl starting from the very beginning. On the first night of her birth, Mr. Sillow tended to the newborn until daylight broke the following morning while his wife had been occupied with sewing up some garments for the infant to wear. Once little Sondra had been clothed, he then taught his wife that the baby was to be nourished with the thick, yellow, snot-resembling colostrum that she had begun to notice leaking out of her breasts late into her pregnancy and gave her a stern warning to bathe the baby only in lukewarm water. Indeed, had it not been for Mr. Sillow’s previous parental experiences with his nine other children, little Sondra would not have survived beyond the first several days of her life, a frightening realization for the fanatic father. That being the case, his wife’s lack of maternal experience, coupled with his old age, brought the shrewd Mr. Sillow to retire from his involvement in the black market to be a full-time stay-at-home father. Too bad he just couldn’t change his ways.
Being around one another all day, every day was the worst thing that ever could have happened in the newlyweds’ already-fragile relationship. The two butted heads over the most nonsensical things. But the biggest pet peeve that Mrs. Sillow had with her husband was his desire to be both the mother and the father in the relationship. He had completely taken over the day-to-day tasks of dressing little Sondra; bathing her; cuddling her; playing with her; and once his wife’s breast milk had started flowing freely from her breasts, he even insisted that she squeeze it out so that he could feed the baby. Mrs. Sillow had basically become a non-factor in her own child’s life. Although she didn’t think that it was possible to hate her husband any more than she already did, that was exactly what was happening ever since he had begun limiting the interaction that she was able to have with her daughter. How dare he? she angrily thought to herself. After all that she had done for the asshole and after enduring every single thing that he had put her through, she couldn’t fathom how he could still be so insensitive to her sensitivities. No other woman would have put up with his insanity; that was for sure. But, everyone has a breaking point, and Mrs. Sillow came to the conclusion that she was finally going to make a change in her disastrous 30-year relationship.