My Father was a weak willed man, who loved my Mother to a fault, and gave her full control over my upbringing, blinding himself to her near madness on...the subject of me, insane in his own little way about one little item- his baby boy's treatment at the hands of his beloved wife.I mean, an infant, even one six times stronger than others, is still an infant. I can see the need for wrestler nannies and sumo bodyguards as I grew (I forgot to mention my parents were quite well off?) But was there. "Ten at one blow! Or was it maybe two blows?Or should I count up all the times I stuck 'em?" Soon he had an idea. He wentand got some of his finest blue cloth and made it into a sash. Then, with whitethread, he embroidered these words on the cloth: "Ten Fays with Two or So Blows." Hewould wear the sash from now on in proud commemoration of his fairy-killingfeat. He lay down on the cot and started to think things over. It was all welland good to kill wicked fairies, but fairies are a vengeful. More

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