So here you go, the last in the series "Confessions of a Pagan Mom":
Confession #10: If you piss me off and I give you Food or Drink, beware; the witch in me rises to the surface. No, of course, I've never harmed anyone, nor would I. I'm a pacifist, a PETA embracer, a Flower Child-- a by-product of the Hippie transition of 1969 (the year I stood at the edge of teen-ager'dom), and I'm empathic (a new-agey label that could also be translated in more mundane terms to "Someone who is Super Sensitive to other peoples feelings and emotions"). And as I keep telling people, though I know there are some out there who just won't believe me-- "I'm NICE, damn it."
But if you piss me off; if you're rude, judgmental, cruel, nasty, or just plain Mean...Don't eat or drink anything I serve you. It might not be harmful, but there could be a serious "Ick Factor" involved here.
- The target: one of my ex-husbands. His crime-- incorrigibility. I don't know what century this man was born in, but no, women were not put here to be at your beck and call, to be yelled at and intimidated, or to be belittled and controlled. What an idiot. Before serving this glowing specimen of chauvinism a cup of coffee, I spit in it. And I watched with great relish as he drank this special cup of coffee to the very last drop. (Ya, okay, there might have been an ancient curse thrown in there somewhere, involving some sort of chant thrown in for good measure, with some name-dropping of ancient Egyptian deities or something.) All I know is that Revenge tasted just as sweet and yummy as that cup of coffee.
- The target: one of my ex-mother-in-laws. Her crime-- actually, she hit all of the above...rude, judgmental, cruel, nasty, and Just Plain Mean. I've never met a colder crueler individual in my life. She reinforced my belief in some sort of inherent evil in the world. She was Snow White's nasty step-mother and Godzilla all rolled into one. But I digress. Okay, she's in My House, on My Turf-- I already like how this sounds. She has belittled and insulted my children, tried to turn my husband against me, and made it her Full-Time-Job to bring me to my knees and destroy that enemy...Self-Esteem. This unfortunate woman accepted my offer, a cup of coffee. No, I did not spit in it-- really, give me some credit for imagination and creativity. This time I dipped my dainty little pinky finger in Something Really Icky, and I placed my finger on the rim of her cup, circling it widdershins (semi-clockwise to the muggles reading this), and this time I don't think, I KNOW, there was lots of chanting and mumbling and cursing and invoking, and other stuff. And I'm pretty sure Marie Laveau's name came up.
- The target: one of my ex-husbands. His crime-- hmmm, I don't think this pertains to this incident, well, wait-- it could have been that I had some doubts here about fidelity. This is when he was a bit younger and seemed to have a roving eye and an unquenchable sexual appetite. Actually, I suspect when he was a young buck, out in the backwoods, he probably f***ed anything that moved. But this is just speculation, and I'm only dealing with what I was actually witness to and what involved me directly. Again, I digress. Anyway, so I decided to do what I warn almost everyone else about doing (we never listen to our own advice, almost never). I cast a love spell, the strongest that there is, and yes, it involved Something Icky and Something to Drink. No, I'm not going to tell you what any of the Something Ickys are, I don't want to give away all my magickal secrets! But when I cast this spell, because actually that's what this was, the timing and the universe lined up perfectly: It was during a Full Moon, which fell on a Friday (Venus, loves spells, and all that, for the muggles unaware of this), and the date was significant, the number or something, though this was so long ago, I don't remember now. If this man still can't get me out of his mind, this spell (and that special glass of Coca-Cola) are probably the reason.