My Father was Crazy Part 2

     I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere and when I tell people they seem jealous but frankly I would have preferred to have grown up in a city or town. In the summer, my father would wake me up by poking me with a shotgun and force me out into the fields to work for the day. I wouldn't be allowed to change my clothes, grab shoes, or even eat breakfast. The path out to the fields was covered with sharp gravel and would cut into my soft feet. I would be given a hoe and would be set to work weeding the fields. The soil would start out cold and would stick to my feet. Soon though the soil would feel like hot skillets on my feet. I would be hot, tired, thirsty, hungry, with blistered feet but he wouldn't care. I would not be allowed to come back inside the house till dusk. I would actually be locked outside the house all day and the water  was undrinkable. All my father ever cared about was making money so he could keep up his other family. He always saw me as a disappointment so why would he care about my safety. After all I would never be what he truly wanted in an offspring... I would never be a boy.