Oh my. So today I picked Gemma up from school for the first time. I was warned that she wouldn’t talk to me but this didn’t stop me from trying. As we walked home I made jokes, sang songs, and ultimately made an ass of myself until we reached the front door of her house. When I opened my bag to look for the keys I pulled out a package of chocolate coated rice cakes. That will teach me to stray from my diet.
We got inside and the first thing she did was ask me for a rice cake… well, she asked her mother to ask me for a rice cake. I was thrilled when Natasha said that Gemma wanted one. “Here’s my chance to break the ice!” I thought.
Nope. I only wish now that I could turn back…
Gemma finished her rice cake, Natasha left the house and my day turned into an episode of the Twilight Zone.
I went into my room and Gemma followed me. She walked over to the shelf where I keep my rings. “Aw, she wants to play with my jewelry,” I thought.
She rifled through them, picked out my favorite one (bless her satanic intuition), and began to violently throw it across the room giggling at my pleas for her to stop. When she got bored with that she picked it up, ran to her room and hid it. Before I could get to her she was standing at her door. She looked up at me with her sweet little face and hissed, “You will never get this ring back.”
Fine, you little shit. I’ll just have your mother get it from you later. I walked into the kitchen defeated, but relieved to be away from her wrath… or so I thought.
I turned around to see that she has followed me. She closed the door behind her and said, “I get to eat in the kitchen. You don’t.” Clearly she’s forgotten all the times I sat with her to eat dinner… in the kitchen. But why argue with the child? I walked calmly toward the door and she placed herself firmly in front of it. “You will never see your mommy again,” she swore.
Oh. My. God. I almost reached for a knife but then I remembered…
“She weighs 30 pounds, Bryn. Just open the door.”
So I swallowed my horror and I opened it with ease while her body remained fully attached. Before retreating to my bedroom I made a futile attempt at retaliation,
“Gemma you’re mean. I don’t play with mean girls.”
As you might imagine, she was unfazed by my remark. I realize now how pathetic that statement really was. But it was that or “Fuck you, little girl.”
Ah, but it didn’t end there. She proceeded to follow me to my room all the while spitting at me. Yes friends, spitting at me. I closed the door and she spit on my door. I opened it, she ran inside and spit on my mirror.
Okay that’s it.
I conjured what I thought would be an intimidating tone of voice and said,
“I am an adult. You are a child. You do not have to like me but you will listen to me. You need to leave. NOW.”
She responds:
“There’s going to be blood coming out of your head.”
Today I learned: Don’t give rice cakes to children of the underworld.
