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My sister–in–law is mildly mentally
retarded
My sister–in–law, Janie, bless her heart,
wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but she
could handle herself, mostly.
She was trying on a gold necklace at the
jewelry store, and the saleswoman said, “If you break it, you buy it.”
Janie thought that meant free necklace if it
broke. Snap!
I ended up paying for it. She actually gave me grief for “interfering.”
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The doctor told her to use 104°F water for the
baby formula.
She ran the tap until it reached 104°F and
mixed it straight in.
I tried to tell her she needed to boil the water
first, and she accused me of trying to hurt her
precious baby boy.
Later, she tried to feed her one–year–old son a gummy bear. Thankfully, I stopped her.
That night, her son died from gastroenteritis.
She blamed me for not letting him have the
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gummy bear. And then she killed me.
I woke up. Back in the jewelry store. The day
of the necklace.
“You said if I broke it, I bought it! Why are
you charging me?” Janie yelled at the
saleswoman. She was seven months pregnant
and wanted a gold necklace for her unborn
baby.
The saleswoman had indeed said those
words. Janie, God love her, took them quite literally. She ripped the necklace, pocketed it,
and now refused to pay.
<
She was a pregnant woman scorned. Earlier,
at the smoothie shop, she’d complained that her mango smoothie lacked mango branches
and demanded a refund. Now, she stood her
ground, righteous indignation blazing.
“This lady’s just trying to get us to spend money, right, sis?” she asked me.
My mind flashed back to my past life.
remembered patiently explaining things to Janie, paying for the necklace. She hadn’t appreciated it. She’d resented me. The seeds
of hatred had been sown.
L
Then came her son. As a doctor, I gave her
advice.
She listened intently, then proceeded to do
the most baffling things.
I told her to feed the baby every two hours.
The baby nearly starved before she realized
nighttime counted.
I told her to use 104°F water for formula. She
ran the tap to 104°F and mixed it straight in.
The poor baby had constant diarrhea.
When I explained, she insisted the diarrhea
was from the 104°F
wate
“ruining” the
formula. That I was poisoning her baby.
<
Tormula. Ihat I was poisoning her baby.
He barely made it to a year old. Then she
tried to give him a gummy bear. I stopped
her.
That night, he died. Gastroenteritis.
Janie, eyes blazing with hatred, screamed at
me outside the ER. “My baby wanted that gummy bear! If he’d had it, he’d be alive! This is your fault!”
Heartbroken, I cut ties with my brother and
his family. But Janie snuck into my house, a
hammer in her hand. She bashed my head in.
“You killed my baby! Pay with your life!”
Only my mom had a spare key.
My soul floated above, watching Mom sign
the plea deal. “Just give us another
grandbaby. Don’t worry about anything else.”
Janie was pregnant again. Apparently, an
unborn child absolved all sins.
…the saleswoman’s words hung in the air.
