Dear woman who’s abandoned her daughter,
COME BACK ALREADY!!! What, you taking it out on me for stretching around a lil when I was in your tummy? What was I supposed to do with the brand new legs that suddenly grew out of nowhere? You be happy I didn’t chew your insides away. Your anguish during those days surpassed nothing else, you say? You’ve forgotten how it was in your own mommy’s tummy? Same boring place. Blood and mush all around. Food streaming in, euckie stuff streaming out. No tv, No music. A finger sprouting out here, a toe springing there. No wonder the baby’s eyes don’t open up inside. Poor thing would pass out.
Don’t you remember my big, beady eyes? My soft, cute little hands and feet and lilting smile? What do you want me to do? Throw baby powder all over myself so you’ll snuggle up to me again? Grrr.
Okay don’t snuggle up or mollycoddle or anything. Just come back and cook some nice food for me. That’ll do. And you know, turn the house back into a home from the living quarters I turned it into. And, don’t get mad at me – your carpet has warmly hosted a swarm of guests – soft drinks, soups, coffee and tea, juices and yaadi ya. I didn’t know what to do with them – so they’re probably still mingling around in there.
You super-mom/super-woman, you. Don’t you want to fly back here and use your powers to set everything right?
Your starved, sickly and dying child.
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