On my lunch break dreaming of a Bloody Mary, I decided to indulge in a peppadew pepper, garlic stuffed green olive, pickled okra, roasted tomato, and a cornichon. If I had the option, I would throw those delicious decorations in a Bloody Mary filled glass with some tender chewy cooked shrimp and a celery rib. Mmm delish. Any hoo, this memory is not very exciting so I am recreating it in a fictional manner. A spooky tale that is very bloody.
My mother bought me a sharpened knife set for the holidays. What a lovely gift, no? For an aspiring chef and homemaker I was truly appreciative. Eager to try the new knives, I decided to make a delicious Bloody Mary with fresh lime juice. After finding the perfect recipe, I ventured to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients. This Bloody Mary for sure would be a delight... or deadly. How was I to know my mother had put an evil spell on the knives to test my ability to live? I didn't, so I made my way home with the ingredients eager to take a sip.
After mixing the vodka, tomato juice, hot sauce and celery salt, I set out the final ingredients on the kitchen cart. The contrast of the bright green lime against the red tomato-vodka concoction brought me back to summer. I could practically smell the fragrant vine tomato plant that grew on my porch, and hear the tomatoes giggling in delight while bathing in the hot summer sun. My mouth began to water.
I pulled out one of the freshly sharpened knives. Holding the knife in one hand and the lime in the other, I sliced the lime in half. OW! The pain! Slicing into the tip of my thumb holding the lime the acidic lime juice poured into the open wound. I'm dying! Crying for help with no one around, I feared my life! Blood dripping down my hand I cried "Bloody Mary!" But the pain did not stop. The only way I was to live was to reverse the spell of the intention behind the knives! My mother was trying to kill me! Screaming "Bloody Hilly! Bloody Hilly!" I washed the wound, wrapped it tight and held it above my heart until the blood clotted. Heart still beating steady, I took a deep breath. I was alive. I then took the bloody knife and mixed my drink, and took a long sip. It tasted salty. Salty like blood. And now I know why they call it a "Bloody" Mary.
My mother loves me, don't get me wrong. I know that no matter how twisted mothers can be, they always have a love deep in their heart for their children. But they also at some point want to kill you. At some point in a mother's life she may be willing to teach you a lesson so great that she will kill you or wish that you were dead. Hamsters and polar bears often kill and eat their young, filial cannibalism is the name. Looking on the bright side, human mothers do not usually eat their young. These important realizations came clear to me this holiday season after a taste for a Bloody Mary. Who knows when they will for you? I feel so fortunate to be alive and to share with you this bloody tale.
Be careful with the gifts you are given for they may result in your death. You hold the power to reverse the spell: just trust your instincts, accept the dark truths of life, and you will live too.
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