I was not admitted to Evil Doctor Medical School, as my laboratory (that’s “lah -boooor -atory) was not up to parr. Hogwarts requires a certain pedigree. And that you are fictional. Debatable in my case, nonetheless hard to prove. I secretly harbor the hope of someday having the resources to found my own university, The Institute for Higher Learning of All Things Mystical, or simply “VooDoo U”.
My dear friend Natasha would be a natural choice for a Professor, teaching her own wicked version of Home Economics, “Culinary Mischief 101”. She is so proficient in her art, that she has never once used anything but wholesome ingredients fit for consumption by her 4 year old step son. It’s ALL in the delivery. Let’s observe her at work shall we…..
Her unpretentious disguise is that of a 40-something girl next door with the demeanor of the perfect Scandinavian nanny we all would hire in a heartbeat if we could afford it. Hair and make up? Braids and lip gloss. Her weekend wear consists of favorite jeans or cargo skirt, basic T-shirt, and one item that always makes you wonder “where did she get that” (like the spring green mary janes she refuses to share!).
Her M.O is simple. Observe environment and locate prey: The career-obsessed Birth-mom. Easily located by her chatter of “I don’t have time to play, mommy is too important not to answer each and every phone call ever. Here’s a new toy.”
Her weapon of choice? Baked goods. Diabolical, I know! Yet just her mere presence is enough to convince Birth-mom that the food before her, and only her, has somehow been poisoned. Case in point: Small child brings home some of his favorite banana bread after a visit. Birth-mom allows him to eat it, but refuses to eat a single crumb in such a rude manner it causes the small child to question the behavior. Why take a chance? Natasha may be the first to manipulate muffins and arsenic on a micro-level capable of differentiating between prey and innocent children.
Birth-mom goes as far to refuse a simple cup of coffee at the restaurant of her own choosing. “I insist we meet in a public place so there are witnesses when Natasha turns me into a newt”. Wise move. The waitress, cook and entire chain of food supply may all be under her spell. Can’t be too cautious. Sidebar: we don’t do that anymore, it’s not a nice thing to do to newts.
Our individual propriety for wickedness drew us together and has kept us together; much like the text-book pages we glued back in seventh grade…..Hmm, maybe its best I get to the point. I freelance once in a while, and actually have some work I should attend to (aka “that ever-expanding pile of stuff”). Natasha has agreed to Guest Blog for me. She has first hand experience in the realm of the stepmom and a talent for writing I admire (and am sometimes jealous of) so I know you are in good hands. If you like her, we shall re-visit her periodically for more tales. If you really like her, she will have to start her own blog.