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Madness with Passion

Last night as I was carefully locking up my home and getting ready for an early night to bed, was I in for a nasty surprise. I have a tendency to double check if each door is locked. I even lock internal doors in my home, like the one from the garage to the kitchen, as an extra precaution against unwanted visitors.

I always scan the Garden from in my living room as I’m turning off the lights. If there is someone out there, I’ll see him and I’ll stare him down. Something like that. Anyway, I’m a single mom with 3 kids to protect. Only an idiot would want to engage in that fight.

Dangerous and armed.

That’s what I like to tell myself comfortingly. I have hockey sticks strategically hidden around the house. And I have Japanese ninja swords. I also have a very wild imagination. So anyway, I feel safe knowing that any idiot would be better off not to trespass.

Just as I’m telling myself all these comforting things, I am scared the living daylights right out of me. There is a face staring at me through the window. My heart skips a beat and my stomach turns. My blood runs cold and for a moment I panic and forget what I had always planned out so perfectly in my mind’s eye.

It’s just Dorothy.

She’s wearing this white floaty kind of dress and she’s carrying a bag in which I discern what looks like a bottle of alcohol and some big fat candles. I’m relieved and angry. Does she realize what she just did? Just a few more seconds and she could have had her head bashed in with a hockey stick, or have been gutted by a Japanese sword.

I open the door with the intention of giving her a good piece of my mind, but Dorothy is happily chirping and pointing at my night dress “Oh great, you remembered our date for tonight. Let’s get naked then and do some soul chanting. The moon is just right.”

I tell her I’m really not in the mood, and that I have to be a perfect mommy example for my littles. Can we do this in the weekend that my two eldest children are visiting their father? “The moon won’t be full then, you silly,” she sounds irritated and starts stripping.

I’m trying to buy time and get out the champagne glasses. I do fancy a glass. Just the one.

Now there is no way I’m going to be Dancing Naked in my garden. The kids could see me. Or worse still, the neighbours. No way, I’ll go skinning dipping in the pool and suggest to watch as Dorothy performs her moonlight ritual to attract a hot, sexy, good looking man into her life.

“Oh are you still self-conscious because you haven’t lost that baby fat yet?” Dorothy knows how to hurt. “Did you know that the pilots of WWII would paint round breasted women with big buts on their planes to motivate them in battle?” Somehow these women always seem to get their fat distributed in the right places. My body is applying a different attribution model when it comes to weight distribution.

Anyway, let’s not draw the attention to my curves right now. I swam a few leisurely lengths in the pool and sipped at my champagne glass, enjoying a totally relaxing moment in my pool lit with little lights. Thought that did look well cool in my night garden. I half noticed Dorothy swaying around in the high grass – need to do some gardening soon, yes I know. But you know, I wake up every morning with plans of all the things I’m going to do that day. 3 kids is always the perfect excuse not to do even half of what’s on my to-do list. I’ve been told this is okay because I’m a mother of 3 children. So I don’t feel guilty about it either. I just know it needs to be done. The grass is a wilderness. Maybe tomorrow.

Dorothy has finished her chanting and looking very happy with herself. “I learned that song from a real shaman, you know. It’s celtic.” Really? It sounded like some garbled language sung along to “these boots are made for walking”. But hey, that’s just my opinion.

The law of attraction.

I went to bed wondering whether Dorothy would really attract what she had asked for. She seemed pretty much convinced about it when she left. There will be signs, she was sure.

The next day I double checked how everyone had slept and if nobody had gotten up in the night and seen a crazy woman dancing naked in the garden. But all kids claimed to have slept like little cherubs.

We had a wonderful day together. Playing with the kids in the garden, on the trampoline and in the pool. I even got that lawn mowed. Yes, I did! Proud of myself.

The hot looking dad came to pick up his daughter at 18h30 sharp as promised. I was all over the place, seeing to kids, approvingly recounting what good little girls we have, so well behaved and polite, in the meantime running after the baby and trying to ignore each time he would tug at my skirt which made it come half the way down each time.

For some strange reason, the hot dad lingered around. He drank his glass of water very slowly. He told me all about his 4 companies and his new projects. All great, wonderful, but what’s the baby just put in his mouth? I think he’s also telling me about his other 2 children, whilst I’m all over the place keeping the baby out of the kitchen drawers and gathering together the girls’ night gear in a travel bag. Every now and again I flash him a smile with my pearly whites.

He finally leaves and I’m just all smiles and flustered and for once really regret that Dorothy wasn’t there to distract the attention. She always does that so magical naturally.

The baby’s in bed and I’ve just sat down with a book and a cup of tea when my phone rings and an unknown number displays. “Oh hi, it’s me again. Just calling on my other phone, the one I use for business. Anyway, nice talking to you. Got to go. See you soon.” And he hung up. It was him! But what was that all about?

And then I remember Dorothy. Dancing naked in my garden. Attracting things into her life. I sigh and tell myself not to read anything into this. I swear I am not going to tell her about this incidence. Don’t want to encourage her to do more of this weird stuff. And certainly not in my garden.

What do you think ? Should I tell Dorothy that her spell had worked a little ? Or am I reading the signs where they are not ? Let me know in the comments below.

This post first appeared on Single Mom Travels For Yoga, please read the originial post: here

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Madness with Passion


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