The Witch’s Lament by Anonymous
Being a witch is not as much fun as you might think. Oh, there’s the glory of saying what you think, no matter the consequences, and the snickers when a car splashes mud all over you. But have you ever had the experience of a grandchild referring to the other grandmother as “the nice one?” None of my grandchildren call me Grandma, and I just realized it is because there’s only one “Grandma” in a child’s life, and I have been usurped on both sides.
Whether you’re a witch or not, when you age, conversation becomes impaired, and in the foggy, scrambled mess someone is sure to take offense. Take me, for instance. I got involved in writing a book and neglected my nurturing family duties, and sure enough that old specter sibling rivalry raised its head and the old witch got dumped! Barred from the hearth and heart of one child and two grandchildren, who may never know why the witch went poof up the chimney without saying goodbye. I got disowned. So let that be a lesson to all ye who relinquish the angel role in favor of the witch. Why would anyone want to do that, anyway? Just a contrarian who took her blessings for granted.