Cover Photo: "Blackstrapmolasses" by Badagnani - Own work. Licensed under CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blackstrapmolasses.JPG#/media/File:Blackstrapmolasses.JPG
"Blackstrapmolasses" by Badagnani - Own work. Licensed under CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blackstrapmolasses.JPG#/media/File:Blackstrapmolasses.JPG

Ain't That Sweet?

I drank from a baby bottle until I was four years old. Mama didn’t even give me real formula by then, it was just half powdered milk, half warm water from the tap, and a tablespoon of Karo syrup or brown sugar or even molasses. Whatever was there, whatever was sweet enough to liven up the bitter wang of well water. It’s amazing how sweetness can make you think of love. You get chocolates on Valentines Day, cake on your birthday. I got Golden Eagle table syrup ladled into bottle with a battered nipple. I thought that her putting something sweet into my bottle meant she loved me and wanted me to never taste the bitter water. One night, I chewed right through the rubber nipple. I cried and got my face popped. She said  that the only thing that kept my mouth shut was gone but I better not cry. I did stop crying. I stopped talking. And I never really wanted sweets that much again.

fat/queer/weird/writer