Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Teaser

They were beautiful. They were talented. They were some of the finest writers and photographers on the internet — strong, independent women, business-women, mothers — mommybloggers.

This weekend, twenty-five of these top mommybloggers met for a weekend summit in one of the most famous spas in Scottsdale, Arizona. The schedule called for pampering and catered meals, but also a serious discussion on important matters that deeply concerned the women of the blogosphere.

On Sunday morning, after a delightful breakfast buffet on the patio, Janet, the summit organizer, tapped her mimosa glass with her grapefruit spoon, calling for the attention of the others. It was time to bring up the main issue, the reason everyone was brought together, flown in from all points of North America.

“Something is tearing our community apart, like a plague,” said the organizer. “Or rather — someone. And we all know who it is.”

The others nodded.

“It is Neilochka. He mocks our mommyblogging networks, he chuckles at our fights over breast-feeding, he tells his friends that our kids are a bunch of spoiled brats, and then he has the chutzpah to want to f*ck us — happily-married women! This has got to stop!”

“But what can we do?” asked Rhonda, an extremely popular humor writer from Florida, who was as comfortable writing about sex as she was writing about the latest PTA meeting. “I’ve unfollowed him three times on Twitter, and he won’t shut up!”

“We need to ignore him.” said Brenda, a writer and mother of three, who recently got a gig as a guest lifestyle commenter on an Oxygen TV show about Moms. “We must never comment on his blog. EVER.”

“There’s only one way out of this,” spoke Eleanor, a brooding brunette with a booming voice. She was from a dark corner of Canada, and hardly spoke the entire weekend. Some wondered why she was even invited to this mommyblogging summit, because none considered her a close friend.

“Unfollowing him or ignoring him will never be enough. We need to do MORE.”

Eleanor reached next to her half-eaten vegetable egg-white omelet, grabbing her bread knife, and with a violent force, stabbed the knife into the oak patio table.    The knife remained, embedded in the wood, still vibrating, as if shaking in fear.

“We need to do a lot more,” she added.

The summit organizer, stunningly dressed in an attractive red sundress from Anthropologie, could hardly speak.

“Are you saying… uh… uh…”

“I’m saying we need to murder Neilochka.” said Eleanor. It won’t be easy. It won’t be clean. But we’re all mothers. We know how to clean up after a mess.”

“But how?” asked Rhonda, the Florida humor writer, not finding any of this funny at all. “And which of us would do it?”

“None of US will do it,” said Eleanor. “The cops will suspect one of us.”

“Then who?” demanded Brenda, intrigued by the suggestion, but also concerned about the possibility of losing her gig with Oxygen.

Eleanor threw her wallet onto the table. The billfold opened, revealing a photo of her Sarah, her lovely five year old daughter, dressed in a cute pink dress from American Girl, with a bow in her reddish hair.

The others looked at each other confused. Sarah? Her five year old daughter?

Eleanor grabbed her neighbor’s mimosa and chugged it down. She wiped her brow with the linen napkin, then stood up, ready to tell her story.

“If you all remember, I started blogging when I was pregnant with Sarah. Blogging was a way to connect with other women, other mothers. Blogging helped me get through some difficult times. Even though I wasn’t married at the time, you accepted me into your community. Today I am happy, but back then, I was lonely. My job was not fulfilling. I was working the night shift at the funeral parlor’s embalming office. While it gave me a good amount of time to blog and write my poetry, it added to my isolation. One night, a young man was brought in, a rugged, handsome man, who was killed in a motorcycle accident. As happens sometimes, the impact of the accident jolted his body, and since men react to anything — even death — the same way, he died with a hard-on. As he sat on the slab, naked, ready for the next day’s embalming, my lust took over. And yes… I made love to this dead man. Soon, I was pregnant, impregnated by this gorgeous man who just happened to be partly decapitated. Nine months later, Sarah was born. All of you congratulated me and created a virtual party for me on your blogs. You were such good friends. But I never told you the full story. I never told you that when I brought Sarah into church to be baptised, Father Brian gasped at the sight of my beautiful daughter, calling her a baby from hell, a half demon baby who would one day create havoc on the world, and just as Father Brian tried to exorcise the baby with holy water, a Toyota Corolla smashed in through the stained glass window, escaping from the Feds during a drug bust gone bad and a police chase through downtown Los Angeles, and pinned the priest against the wall, instantly killing him, his red blood staining the newly washed floor. I only tell you this because now that Sarah is five years old, it is time to unleash this demon child onto the world, and since we have no choice or way to stop her, we might as well use her for our own purposes. To use her as a tool of the mommybloggers. I know what you are thinking. What kind of mother am I to allow my daughter to kill Neilochka? Well, I would hope that you would not be critical of me because I raise my daughter in a way differently than you do. We’re all one community of mothers, even if one mother sometimes disagrees with some aspect of another mothers’ child-rearing methods. We can only mold our children so much. Some are just born with a certain disposition. Some are shy. Some are criers. Some are just plain demonic. And despite Sarah being the spawn of the Devil and a evil child from hell, I am still her mother, and I love her. I read her ethnically-diverse children’s stories, dress her in organic clothes, and teach her to be respectful when she plays with other children, sharing her toys. I love to take photos of her at the beach and upload them on Flickr, especially when we go on trips together, like that wonderful cruise that was sponsored by Disney. We had a great time, didn’t we Brenda?”

“Yes, it was a lot of fun,” replied Brenda. “But… but… what exactly will Sarah DO to Neilochka?”

“You will see.” said Eleanor, rather ominously. “You will see. Very soon.”

THE MOMMYBLOGGER’S DEMON CHILD, a Halloween Tale, coming to this blog on October 31st.

From the writer of such horrific tales as Giving Head (2008), The Werewolf (2007), and The Joy of 666 (2006)

22 Comments

  1. I have never been quite so glad to be left out of the mommyblogging fold! I am afraid. Very afraid.

  2. Arggghhhhh…..

    I am miffed that you have stolen parts of my life story for your filthy Halloween purposes, but I will temporarily allow you to continue.

    P.S. How did you know about the decapitation? I never told anyone that…

  3. I can just hear that gravely voiced voice-over guy saying that last part.

    Should be good.

    Note to self: Don’t upset the Mommy Bloggers.

  4. Can this child get her head to rotate 360 degrees? That I would pay money to see.

  5. ANd I always thought your demise would have something to do with a jealous husband, a D-cup and the brunt end of a broken bottle. Silly me.

  6. Have you ever thought of seeking professional help? 😉

  7. Ha ha ha ha. I LOVE this. When she called the summit to order by tapping her grapefruit spoon on her mimosa glass, I was IN.

    And the last paragraph made me think you should start a new blog: Things White Mothers Like.

  8. Neil, please. I am begging you to reconsider. Redheads should NEVER wear pink!

  9. “And despite [_____] Sarah being the spawn of the Devil and a evil child from hell, I am still her mother, and I love her.”

    From what I’ve seen via their children, there are quite a few parents who I wish would just take ownership of this statement.

  10. waiting for your gruesome demise at the hand of demonic child of mommy blogger with bated breathe….

  11. I may or may not have just soiled my pants. I would have said “drawers,” but neither of us are southern, so that would have made it awkwardly dresser-like.

    Also, can we be BFF?

  12. Damn Aurelia, I thought Eleanor was ME!

    (ps – LOVE THIS)

  13. I’ll think twice next time I leave a mommyblogger a comment. By the way, loved the mention of a red Anthropologie sundress.

  14. Well, now the mommy-bloggers are starting to get interesting…

  15. In all honesty you lost me at stunningly dressed a attractive red sundress from Anthropologie.

    But I did get to the end. Classic line Neil. Classic.

  16. I’m getting an overpowering urge to search a few mommyblogs for casual references of demonic possession and the Anti-Christ and family outings to the morgue.

    All in adorable tulle Etsy clothes, of course. Of course.

  17. Wait.

    You’re the mommyblogger nemesis??

    I thought you were their mascot!

    I’m so confused now.

  18. Fine line between mascot and nemesis.   Think star wars. 

  19. Holy crap, that was awesome. And even more poignant in light of my last post. Mommybloggers are violent, dude.

  20. I am very, very afraid…

  21. Awesome. I wasn’t invited to the mommmyblogger summit, or I would have defended you.

    Sarah the demon child gives me chills.

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