My son stole my phone to play a game and went on a nine-game losing streak. *That* useless? I swatted his butt a few times. He burst into tears. "I don't want you. I want Auntie Claire to be my mom." Oh. So he's the "son" in one of those "father and son win back the estranged wife" stories. And I'm the wife they're supposed to win back. The script says I'm supposed to get heartbroken and walk out. Instead, I snapped, "You want a new mom? Well, I want a new dad! I want Elon Musk to be my dad!" He stared at me, dumbfounded. "Stop dreaming!" I yelled. "Go do your homework!" 1 My son just stood there, looking at me. His big eyes filled with tears. And just like that, my heart melted. He's only five. And yes, he's the spitting image of his father—the one whose heart belongs to someone else—but he's so damn cute. And he did, in fact, emerge from my own body. Besides, he's so bad at the game. He tanked my ranking from Diamond all the way down to Bronze. He was probably already upset about that, and then I yelled at him and swatted him. Okay, I was being a little mean. So I tried to comfort him. "Alright, sweetie," I said, patting his head. "Even though you're a total noob, Mommy still loves you." 2 He stared at me for a second. Then he let out a wail that could shatter glass. "I don't want you! I don't want you!" I dropped the laundry hanger I'd been holding and scooped him up. "Okay, okay! Mommy wants you! Mommy wants you! Mommy is going to *force* her love on her little munchkin!" Just then, his father's Tesla pulled into the driveway. My son immediately slid to the floor and ran to my husband, Julian, hugging his leg. "Daddy, I don't want Mommy! Take me to Auntie Claire! I want her to be my mom!" Auntie Claire. His father's one that got away. His "white whale." According to the original story's plot, this is the woman who drives me to leave them both. I'm supposed to adopt another little boy as a "control group" to prove a point. My biological son, Leo, is supposed to grow into a useless delinquent who ends up in prison for a DUI. Julian, devastated that I won't come back, becomes an alcoholic, his company goes bankrupt, and he kills himself after our son is jailed. Meanwhile, my adopted son gets into Harvard. And I become a famous webcomic artist. A true "girlboss" icon that readers love. Having just become self-aware of this plot, I was just like: ... Right now, though, I just crossed my arms and glared at Julian. "You took him out and just handed him your phone to shut him up, didn't you?" This kid was a lost cause. All he ever wanted to do was play on a stupid phone. He'd get flamed in the game chat, with people calling him a "stupid little kid," and he'd just type back proudly, "I'M NOT A LITTLE KID, I'M IN KINDERGARTEN!" 3 Julian looked shifty for a second, then denied it. "No." I was about to lay into him when he added, "He stole *my* phone and played." Leo slowly let go of his father's leg, looking up at him with betrayed eyes. I scoffed. "See?" I said to Leo. "You want to run off with your dad to Auntie Claire? The first thing he does is throw you under the bus! The second he marries her and they have their own baby, you'll be the forgotten stepchild! A new mom means a new, worse dad!" Leo let out another epic wail, his face turning beet red. It was his first taste of betrayal. The pain was real. I saw my opening and swept in, scooping him up and carrying him to the backyard, away from Julian. 4 I sat with him on the porch swing, pressing his head against my chest. Once his sobs subsided, I whispered devilishly in his ear, "It's okay, baby. Mommy's here." "As long as Mommy's around, no one is turning you into a sad little orphan. You want to play on the phone? Mommy will let you play. Why would you let another woman move into our house?" He looked up at me, his expression pitiful. "You're lying. You always play by yourself and you never let me. You say I'm too little." I… right. He wasn't wrong. I did a little self-reflection. It was true. I'd enrolled Leo in a ton of enrichment classes. He started talking at eight months, so I was convinced he was a genius destined for the Ivy League. I'd been pushing him relentlessly. 5 There was another reason, too. Marrying Julian was a major step up for me. I was a cocktail waitress who hadn't even finished high school. He saw me, a convenient substitute for his precious Claire, and I saw an opportunity. After a few "accidents" with the contraception, I got pregnant and secured my position. I didn't even tell him about the baby until I was seven months along. Leo was a champ, hiding out perfectly until the reveal was strategically sound. And just like that, we were living the high life. I had the official status of "Mrs. Miller," not some mistress on the side. Of course, marrying up means you have no money, no connections, no power of your own. So what do you have? A seemingly priceless, devoted heart. I spent years playing the part of the adoring wife, so deeply in love it was almost tragic. Everyone knew it. He, in turn, remained cool and distant, resentful that I had "trapped" him. 6 After Leo was born, he didn't touch me. For the first few years, I played the part of the long-suffering, gentle wife. I was so good at it that his family and friends were constantly on his case, which put me on the moral high ground. Then Leo got older. His grandparents fell head-over-heels in love with their grandson, showering him with stocks, trust funds, and properties. Every birthday, Leo would rake in gifts worth millions. So, naturally, I threw him two birthday parties a year—one for his actual birthday, one for his "half-birthday." I also threw parties for holidays, for getting a gold star in class, for finishing the first semester of kindergarten… any excuse, really. The gifts just rolled in. The past couple of years, the money Leo and I have accumulated is enough for us to live lavishly for the next ten lifetimes. That's when I finally felt secure enough to talk back to Julian. I couldn't stand it anymore. I'd be trying to instill good habits in our son, and Julian would swoop in, undermining me with candy, screen time, and junk food. As a result, Leo saw his dad as the fun, loving parent, and me as the wicked witch. 7 But I digress. The other reason I pushed Leo so hard was my own crippling insecurity. I needed to raise a perfect child to prove that I deserved my place in this family. It's a shame I didn't realize how misguided I was until the plot of my own life was revealed to me. 8 So, Leo wants his dad's ex-girlfriend to be his mom. And I'm just supposed to walk away? No chance. A child is a mirror of their parents. His behavior is a direct reflection of my own shortcomings. I asked him, "Honey, why do you like Auntie Claire more than Mommy?" Honestly, it stung. A lot. Nine months of pregnancy, and even if my initial motives were questionable, my love for him was real. I remember the joy of feeling him kick, the agony of childbirth that I never once regretted. But just like when he was a baby and he bonded more with the nanny, my anger wasn't directed at him. It was directed at everyone else. I wasn't going to blame my son. I was going to win him back. Damn this plot. Who in their right mind just hands their kid over to someone else? 9 Leo sniffled, his little pink lips pouted, but he didn't say anything. I held him close, my cheek against his. "Tell Mommy," I cooed. "Whatever it is, I'll change. I promise." I added a little scare tactic. "You really think life with a stepmom will be easy? The minute your dad and her have a baby of their own, you'll be an afterthought. Have you heard the story of Cinderella? Stepmoms are evil. She'll give you a poisoned apple. And your dad will love the new baby more than you. You'll be a poor little beggar!" Tears welled up in his eyes again. He was terrified. "But it's okay!" I said quickly. "Mommy is here! Even if you don't want me, I'll be like Captain Marvel, always here to protect you! You are my world!" 11 He looked at me, hesitant. I met his gaze with all the sincerity I could muster. Finally, he sniffled. "Okay. But you have to let me play on your phone first. Then I'll believe you." We stared at each other for three seconds. He was definitely my son. He'd inherited my lazy-genius for manipulation. How could I ever blame him for being a slacker when I was his primary role model? Julian is an Ivy League MBA, a titan of industry. The "useless" gene had to come from me. 12 Half an hour later, I listened to him screaming in frustration. "Stupid game! Why won't you work! Aaargh! I lost again! I hate this game!" The player on the other end was just as mad. "WHICH ONE OF YOU TROLLS LET YOUR TODDLER PLAY ON YOUR ACCOUNT?! GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK, KID! I HOPE I NEVER GET MATCHED WITH YOU AGAIN! TRASH!" Leo yelled back, "I'M NOT A TODDLER, I'M IN KINDERGARTEN!" I watched my rank drop further and further into the abyss and clenched my fists. The next time I swatted him, I'd make it count. After losing thirty games in a row, he finally threw the phone down. "I'm never playing again." 13 "Son," I said gently, "why are you so obsessed with this game, anyway?" You're terrible at it. Do you just enjoy the punishment? He fidgeted. "I see you playing it all the time. So I wanted to play too." I... "That's ridiculous. Mommy is always reading." To create a good learning environment, I always pretended to be reading. He pouted. "You're a liar! I saw you! You hide your phone inside your book! The phone is fun. And you won't let me have fun! You don't love me! Auntie Claire lets me play!" I… "Letting you play on the phone is bad for you! It rots your brain!" "Then why do you do it?" "I'm stopping! No more phone for Mommy! If I play again, I'm a... a big silly-pants!" He gave me a skeptical side-eye. He didn't believe me for a second. 14 I had temporarily appeased the little tyrant, at the cost of my own screen time. I reviewed the plot again. After I leave, I become a successful webcomic artist. I was shocked. Did that mean my husband and son were holding me back? But how much does a webcomic artist even make? I could be a rich wife *and* a webcomic artist. And Julian's company... since it's destined to fail anyway, I should convince him to sell it now. And since he's about to realize I'm the love of his life, he should be putty in my hands. As for Leo... clearly, my parenting methods weren't working. I decided to consult a professional and booked an appointment with a child psychologist. While I was busy strategizing, Julian walked in with Auntie Claire.
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