Since my children could speak I’ve repeated the same mantra, “There’s no such thing as a good stepmother.” Walt Disney built a film studio based on the notion that Stepmothers are evil. I know I’m right.
I also know the mantra doesn’t qualify me as a great mother, but it secures me a spot I’m desperately searching for. Martyrdom. I’m not too worried about divorce, but should I meet an untimely end, I don’t want my kids calling someone else Mom.
Yes, I’ve heard the arguments. Yes, I realize this is selfish, foolish and I’d be dead anyhow. I don’t care, and I won’t be bothered with your logic now LeaveMeAlone. If you’re looking for further proof that I’m not interested in logic, my living will clearly states that my organs are available for harvest, but not my eyes. I am terrified that the Messiah would come and I woudn’t see him.
Shut. Up. I know.
I happen to like my step mother, so I let her be my dentist and I don’t pay my bills. Now I realize that although she clearly loves my children, and quite possibly my husband, she has an evil streak that Walt Disney warned me of.
I was there for my routine cleaning and there’s all this small talk about what pretty teeth I have, and how they’re strong with good enamel and aren’t the Grandchildren cute and all… then she runs right into, “now you just call Tracy to make an appointment for your grafting and did you know the Kosher Butcher on Pico has this really great turkey…”
What? Call Tracy for WHAT? Tracy is a surgeon who specializes in grafting.
Then she draws this picture where you take a hunk of skin out of the roof of your mouth and graft it onto your receding gumline. That’s when I whisper “What the Fuck?” I whisper because my kids are there, not because I’m concerned about her other patients. I am in total meltdown.
The Stepmother then goes on to explain how it’s typical with age, and it’s really no big deal and she’s having so much fun with Jane at their sewing class. I realize at that moment, that although she is a magnificent dentist with tiny quick hands, she is still a stepmother. Much like the bitch down the street, she has called me old, and now she’s gonna get a friend in on the act to cut my mouth open.
My sweet husband’s dream will come true. I’ll be unable to speak for at least a day. It’s a good thing too, becuase I’ve got a feeling that when I walk into Tracy’s office they’re going to ask me if I’m a member of the AARP.
Photo credit wikipedia via creative commons