My Stepmother’s Views on Abuse
A father hits his daughter for disagreeing with her stepmother. Through the closed doors a sister hears cries of “help me! Help!”
Stepmother dearest does nothing, merely looks at the sister. “She deserves it.”
The sister will never stand up for herself now. Why be brutalized for free thinking?
My Stepmother on Honesty as the Best Policy
The middle sister eats meat, but doesn’t eat lamb. Lambs are too cute, and they have special religious importance to her, since Jesus was the Lamb of God. Eating lamb to her is as though she were ingesting Christ. She makes this clear to her father and stepmother, because Queen Bee likes to try and force strange foods down her unsuspecting stepchildren’s throats. Like spaghetti and cherry sauce.
One afternoon, the stepmother knocks on her door. She enters the middle sister’s room bearing meat on a fork.
“What is it?”
“Just try it.”
No one is ridiculous enough to willingly ingest the stepmother’s cooking. But she won’t leave. So, the daughter nibbles tentatively at the mass.
The stepmother laughs. “It was lamb!”
Of course it was.
My Stepmother and Creativity
The only son sits in the backseat of his stepmother’s car. He stares out the window, watching the trees go by.
“Don’t look out the window!” the stepmother snaps. “Turn your head and look straight forward!”
The boy now stares at the headrest of a car seat.
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