You know that Johnny Cash (R.I.P pour out a little bourbon) song about the man who abandoned his son but named him Sue to make him grow up tough. That song closely resembles my early childhood, oddly enough my mom was behind most of the actions that toughened me up by accident or by purpose and sometimes by both. But this aint no Middlesex story, my family is tight BUT not that tight. You see the only thing that’s worse than growing up poor is growing up a poor immigrant. Even if you look like the other kids having a British accent oddly enough can end up getting you beat up in 1st grade. On top of that mom having to work three to four jobs and me having two younger sisters meant she’d shop for us in one hurried clean swoop not really making sure to differentiate suitable male things and suitable female things.