–noun 1. a person born of unmarried parents; an illegitimate child.

Throughout the years my mother has had a variety of pet names for me: fat ass; stinky; terrorist; and bastard are but a few examples. The latter of which, bastard, is the one she used to the most frequently in my formative, prepubescent years – from ages 1 to 19.

I didn't at first understand what the word meant, or even that it had a negative connotation. This lasted until kindergarten when I was told by my teacher, Mrs. Andrews, that calling little Sally a bastard was most inappropriate.

Later that day, my mother was far from pleased when she learned of my verbal misstep. I still didn't understand what I did wrong, but between her snarling grimace and the cigarette smoke shooting out of her nose and mouth, she looked like a dragon from a recent He-Man episode. I thought it best to let the matter drop.

Obviously, I eventually learned the meaning of the word, or meanings as it were. And with time and heavy use, even the most pejorative of terms loses its sting . Mother moved on to and favored other derogatory names, though she would occasionally use her past stand by, which was fine with me as it brought back fond memories of Orko, Man-At-Arms and Teela.

One day, not so long ago, while searching for my birth certificate, I rediscovered my parent's wedding album. I vaguely remembered looking through it as a child, but I had long since forgotten it existed.

By all appearances, the wedding was an informal affair, both it and the reception took place in my aunt's backyard. I rather enjoyed seeing my family so happy and carefree; my mother actually resembled a petite, pretty young woman and not a mindless, draconian menace controlled by Beast-Man in the hope of helping Skeletor overthrow the Sorceress and all of Eternia.


Yet I was puzzled about something: who was the fair headed toddler with my mom and dad in most of the photos. He seemed very familiar, but I couldn't place where, that is until it came to me: I really am a bastard.

It was me in the photographs, each and everyone. I was present at their wedding, and not as fetus or in spirit, but as an actual, tangible and illegitimate person. It shouldn't really surprise me. My parents met in a bar, and my birth was heralded by a cony hot dog and what was thought to be a really bad case of gas, so really the whole situation made perfect sense.

I spent so many years thinking my mother was being needlessly cruel, when instead she was just being literal. Of course, I wonder what that says about her? There is a word for an unmarried woman who bears a child – mother.