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My Mom Is Jealous Of My Model Body
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“Ugh! Robert! I can’t get my pants on! You did this to me!” my mom screamed at my dad.
“Belinda honey, you’re exaggerating. You gave birth five years ago. It’s not my fault you’re still fat.”
“How dare you talk to me like that! You’re sleeping on the couch for the week!”
“Great! You take up too much space on the bed anyway! Come on Kera! You can sleep in the living room too and we can make pillow forts! It’s gonna be so much fun!” my dad laughed and smiled at me.
Before I continue to tell you about my very strange life, please like the video and subscribe to the channel! Hit that notification bell in the next five seconds for one week of good luck. It really works!
Since I was a little girl it was a really hard task living with my mom. In fact, it was sort of like a punishment. I always wondered why I couldn’t have a loving, ordinary mom who wasn’t so obsessed with how she looked all the time. My mom was actually pretty normal in size but she felt like her body never went back to normal after she had me. After that horrible experience she said she would never have another child again. One had done enough damage to her body.
As I grew up, I began to realize that not only was my mom ashamed of her body, she was also jealous of mine. It made no sense because I was only about six years old. Whenever we’d go shopping for new clothes and I’d try them on in the changing room, she’d look like she wanted to cry.
“Wow, that swimsuit looks so good on you! Enjoy it while it lasts. I don’t look good in swimsuits anymore.”
“I’m sure you do, mommy.”
“Be quiet!” she’d shout and everyone would look at her like she was completely nuts.
When I tried on dresses, pants, shirts or shoes she looked like something heavy just dropped on her head and ruined her life forever.
Sometimes when we went out – like to her friends’ parties – she’d make me wear the most hideous outfits hoping that she’d get more compliments than me. She never did though. Everyone thought I was so cute. They’d pull my cheeks, smile at me and sometimes even give me gifts.
Our second channel
“Ugh! Robert! I can’t get my pants on! You did this to me!” my mom screamed at my dad.
“Belinda honey, you’re exaggerating. You gave birth five years ago. It’s not my fault you’re still fat.”
“How dare you talk to me like that! You’re sleeping on the couch for the week!”
“Great! You take up too much space on the bed anyway! Come on Kera! You can sleep in the living room too and we can make pillow forts! It’s gonna be so much fun!” my dad laughed and smiled at me.
Before I continue to tell you about my very strange life, please like the video and subscribe to the channel! Hit that notification bell in the next five seconds for one week of good luck. It really works!
Since I was a little girl it was a really hard task living with my mom. In fact, it was sort of like a punishment. I always wondered why I couldn’t have a loving, ordinary mom who wasn’t so obsessed with how she looked all the time. My mom was actually pretty normal in size but she felt like her body never went back to normal after she had me. After that horrible experience she said she would never have another child again. One had done enough damage to her body.
As I grew up, I began to realize that not only was my mom ashamed of her body, she was also jealous of mine. It made no sense because I was only about six years old. Whenever we’d go shopping for new clothes and I’d try them on in the changing room, she’d look like she wanted to cry.
“Wow, that swimsuit looks so good on you! Enjoy it while it lasts. I don’t look good in swimsuits anymore.”
“I’m sure you do, mommy.”
“Be quiet!” she’d shout and everyone would look at her like she was completely nuts.
When I tried on dresses, pants, shirts or shoes she looked like something heavy just dropped on her head and ruined her life forever.
Sometimes when we went out – like to her friends’ parties – she’d make me wear the most hideous outfits hoping that she’d get more compliments than me. She never did though. Everyone thought I was so cute. They’d pull my cheeks, smile at me and sometimes even give me gifts.
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