Confronting our parents

Once, or maybe twice or more than that, but once in my recollection, when we lived in North Carolina my mom dropped me off to be babysat at her friend's house near the military base where my father worked. I was maybe 6 or 7. I hated it. The matriarch was some woman my mom's age, I don't know how she knew her, and she had a few kids around my age. All I remember of the day was being ignored by these children in their playroom while they watched that Alice in Wonderland TV show. Remember this?

I hated this show more than anything. I, unlike most children apparently, did not care for Alice in Wonderland. I was a pretty boring, mild little kid and it was way too sinister for my muted tastes. So there I was, stuck in this playroom with these kids that I suspected didn't like me, stuck watching this show that was at best boring and at worst really freaky. The mom appeared and, seeming to sense my frustration, announced we would be making cookies. Ok, awesome. Oh but wait, we go to make the cookies and I go to put some cookie batter in my mouth and she flips out and says I can't eat cookie batter or I'll get salmonella. Excuse me? Eating raw cookie dough is the best part of making cookies. Also, I have eaten raw cookie dough (not daily or anything but when I decide to make cookies...) for years and I'm not dead yet. Needless to say, the cookies did not comfort me. I had been chastised and forced to watch a weird show in a strange home with people I did not know or like and all I wanted to do was go home. I didn't understand why my mom would take me to such a place and leave me there. I never understood why all the other kids were picked up from school and I had to stay until 5:30 at after school care. I wished my mother didn't work so much or so hard, my father too for that matter, though now I know it was for the good of our family.
I heard a story on This American Life once about confronting our parents. When we're children we think our parents are perfect and are hurt sometimes by the things they do or say to us. When we grow up the best we can look forward to is reaching a day when enough time has passed that we can objectively confront them and ask them why they did certain things. By the time this day is reached the point is moot. Our parents are different people than they were and to point out their "failings" as a parent serves no purpose except to hurt them.