Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Fish Food.

My daughters are less than 2 years apart. The early years were challenging as days were spent wrangling a toddler and nursing a baby.  Through all of the challenges, I held on to the hope that one day their reliance on me for everything would ease and that they would grow to rely on each other as playmates and friends. I pictured myself reading a book while the girls played together in the yard.

Fast forward 13 years to last night.

I walked up the stairs and heard them laughing. These were not giggles. These were big belly-laughs that begged for air. Though it was late, and I wanted them to sleep, my heart melted at the sound. It was welcomed music. The day had been rough….assigned chores had gone undone or uncompleted. There was yelling. Phones were yanked. So many tears. Listening to their laughter gave me hope. We could start again tomorrow. 

I leaned in for a closer listen.

Hadley: I’m making a voodoo doll. And I’ll stick pins all over her.

I’m puzzled. Why is this funny?

Cameron: You’re a psycho….but what’s a voodoo doll?

Hadley: It’s a magic doll, and she’ll feel the pain.

Cameron: Does it really work?

Hadley: I hope so.

They cackle in unison.

Hadley: I wish we had a chimney.

Cameron: Why?

Hadley: We can shove her up it.

Cameron: Yes! It’s called ‘The Reverse Santa Claus.’

Me! Oh. My. God. They’re talking about me. They’re plotting to kill me.

Hadley: Wait! I’ve got it. We’re gonna ‘Carol Baskin’ her.

Carol Baskin is featured in the Netflix docuserius Tiger King. Carol is a big cat ‘rescue’ owner, who is accused of killing her husband and feeding him to the tigers.

I do not recommend it for teenage viewers.

Cameron saw just one problem with Hadley’s ‘Carol Baskin’ plan. “Wait!” she said. “Hadley, we don’t have a tiger!”

But Cameron also had a solution: “We’ll just have to chop her up. Didn’t they use a meat grinder in that show? Do we have a meat grinder? And then! We can feed her to Bubbles!”

Bubbles is our beta fish. They’ve plotted to turn me into fish food.

I was headed to bed. Now I can’t sleep.

Their laughter will surely fuel nightmares. My sweet little babies. Where did I go wrong?
Did I feed them too many food-dyes? Did I let them watch too much TV?

Well, I definitely shouldn’t have let them watch Tiger King.

My dreams of them relying on each other as friends and playmates has gone awry. They’re now co-conspirators in a murder plot.

I’ve got no where to hide. We’re quarantined and those little monsters are coming for me.

If I go missing, someone check the fish bowl.

My final resting place.

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