Dear Step Spawn...

You were having some trouble following the "rules of life" at your mother and stepfather's house, so they put you in a car and told you you were going on a road trip, and when you got to your destination, there were your dad and I, waiting to take you home and hopefully provide you with a good life, some supervision, and directions for the right path.

I understand at first there was some bitterness toward your mother for tricking you into moving here, understand she was afraid that you would run away (since you did before, but we didn't find that out until after you did it here).

When you first arrived, you were all sugar and spice and everything nice. Or so we thought...

Our first clue should have been when we stopped at Walmart on the way home, and you wanted everything you saw on every aisle, oh well, typical kid, right? You brought your little dog with you, I was not thrilled, but thought you should have your pet, your best friend to commiserate with about your plight. I should have figured it out right away that the dog was an accessory, like a handbag, not a pet, and since you don't have to feed or walk a handbag, apparently you thought you didn't need to feed or walk a chihuahua either. For a good year that dog shit on my stairs, chewed up all sorts of items, barked at everyone that came within 5 blocks of our front door, never had food or water unless I or your dad or one of your brothers felt bad for it.

Eventually we had a contract about the dog- let's see...easy stuff, show up for class, no drugs, no drinking, be where you are supposed to be when you are supposed to be there. Of course you didn't take us seriously, because you are 15, and your dad wouldn't really give your dog away, right? Wrong. Skipping school=not showing up for class=bye bye, dog. That's pretty much when you stopped giving a shit, you figured we couldn't take anything else away, we already took your handbag/dog, right? Wrong.

Unfortunately for you, you are not quite sneaky enough to pull the wool over your dad's eyes (he's done 10 times worse than you) or mine (I was just as bad, but much sneakier seeing as how I grew up with a cop for a mom, I had to be).

Stealing my cigarettes...probably wouldn't have know except your dad doesn't smoke and he thought you smelled like smoke a few times, so I started counting them. Left a pack on my desk when I went to Salem to pick up your sister as bait...yup, there were six when I left, 5 when I returned. Busted. As per usual. So I bought you two packs of "Bronco's" ewwww, you smoked 4 while you called all your other parents and grandparents and told them you decided to become a smoker, then proceeded to puke. Promised you would never smoke again, yeah right. A few weeks later I stopped counting, and you were busted leaving campus by "Vonny" the security guard (oh, how well I know Vonny, although I was just sneaky enough not to get busted) and since they search your belongings when you come back to campus, lo and behold!! A lighter and cigarettes!! Let me put on my shocked face for you!!

So the smoking I could deal with, I'm not the pot calling the kettle black, I too, started smoking in high school.

What I couldn't deal with is the spending the night at your friend's house and sneaking out with boys to smoke pot and hike through the forest in the dark. I would have never known if you didn't publish all your dirty deeds on myspace.com. Especially from my computer which I so generously let you use. Wow.

Busted.

So you decided to skip school for a few days after that incident, so you could go get stoned with your so-called friends, (which you won't remember why you even liked them when you get to be my age, but right now they are more important than life itself) then not come home from school.

So this part I'm particularly ashamed of myself, but for some reason, when you have a teenager, (and you are still barely an adult yourself, which by the way, on the path you're headed, you'll see what I mean very soon) you go thru their room. Not cool, I know, and it was the first and last time I did it. I still wish I hadn't.

You left your journal out purposely, I know this because you addressed me in it, as if you knew I would read it. So if you still want to "kick my fat ass" bring it, sister, because right now I would love to kick yours. Oh yes, it wouldn't even be a fight, and I'm sure you know this because you never said it to my face. If you did, I'd be in jail.

So all this time I thought we had this great relationship, I was the "cool" stepmom, that was closer to your age, and understood you. You were this great young lady, that always wanted to hang out with me, go shopping with me...wait- shopping, now I get it. So everything you wrote in your journal about me was shitty. Nothing about all the Hello Kitty shit I see when I'm out and about and bring home, cause I was thinking, "Gosh, Step Spawn would really dig this" nothing about me advocating for you to have more freedom, be ungrounded, etc. Nothing about me feeding and clothing you, getting a job so I'd have more money to keep you in the lifestyle which you think you are entitled. No, all shit. Every negative experience you've ever had with me or think you've had with me, you take the time to write every detail, real or imagined, but not ONE nice word. Thanks. Now I have to live with you, knowing how you really feel about me. And be the mature adult about it. So I do...

Then you start really fucking up...

One day you decided you wanted to "volunteer" at the animal shelter, because you love animals and you miss the dog sooooo much. You showed up once, if that. Every other time it was "see ya Dad, see ya Mayor!" and you're off with your boyfriend, sneaking and lying, my two least favorite things.

But we don't know this, not yet...

Unlucky for you, your sister is trying to get out from in front of the bus that she's put herself in, and throws you there instead. "Step Spawn has had a phone in her room for months so she can call her boyfriend, oh yeah, and she's been stealing your cigarettes again and smoking in her room, here, let me show you."

So you come home from your friend's house and you're what?

Busted.

So you're in trouble, yet again, promising to do better, yet again, and 3 days later you run off to said boyfriend's house.

What? The cops actually picked you up? You're suprised of course, cause as you tell your dad, "You told me to run away!"

Bullshit. Did we tell you to steal money from us as well? I think not.

So since turn about is fair play, you throw your sister in front of the bus, to take the heat off yourself, since nothing is ever completely your fault. You are the one that manipulated your sister into "keeping Dad busy" so you could sneak out. Yeah, she helped, I'll give you that, but she's 11 and your 15, if you were 11 and your 15 year old sister who didn't give you the time of day unless she wanted something from you actually wanted something from you, you'd do it too.

So Grandpa and Grandma say, "We'll take Step Spawn for a week or so, so you can cool off and figure out what to do, and it won't be a vacation here."

A week later Grandpa calls and says "Why don't you let her live here and you can come visit??!!" Are you fucking kidding me???

Not to mention all the shopping and driving Grandma's car you get to do, when you should be back here facing the fucking music for what you did. Since you figure it wouldn't be pleasant, you beg and plead your mother to let you come back to California, and since she couldn't handle your bullshit, she says yes??!!

So fine, I guess you are off the hook for all the shit you've created here, but when you fuck everyone over, don't come crying. You made your bed. Lie in it.