Letitia’s nine-year-old son, Jason, was a brat. It was a quality he had inherited from his mother. Jason’s teacher (currently on strike) had described Letitia as “the meanest, nastiest mother I have ever encountered in my thirty-two years of teaching.”
Indeed, Jason had inherited every inch of his mother’s nastiness, and not an ounce of his father’s niceness. His father visited once a month, for an hour only. That was all that Letitia allowed. The father was there, said Letitia, to “pay the bills and stay out of our life.”
How the tables turned when Paddy came into a considerable fortune! The ink had hardly dried on Paddy’s newly-created will, leaving all to Jason, when Letitia conceived a plot. Next time Paddy visited she would poison him.
Letitia shared her plan with Jason. “You want to be rich? Let’s not hang around. Let’s get rid of him. Here’s the plan…”
Jason was to offer his father a cup of coffee. He was to put the poisonous powder into his father’s mug along with the sugar.
Jason took after his mother – the meanest, nastiest mother ever encountered. When his father visited Jason prepared the coffee as instructed. He gave his mother the special mug.
And good riddance.
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… to bad rubbish.
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What a naughty little boy! If you’re going to murder someone you should murder them for money.
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You’re a man after my own heart (sometimes).
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I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or a threat.
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I’ve always been threatened by compliments.
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He might have been a brat, but he wasn’t dumb.
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Ha ha! So he did take after his father a little bit!
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I wonder if he followed the motto in your header photo after his deadly deed?.
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You don’t miss a beat Yvonne! “Nil nisi bonum” is apparently on the Goodman coat of arms. The beehive has nothing to do with anything, except I remember a saying in the Reader’s Digest when I was a kid: “If you want to gather honey don’t start by kicking over the beehive”. I will ask the Queen if I can use it if I ever marry a Princess.
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Please invite me to that wedding, BA.
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I have my doubts about your choice of hats.
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Meanies and nasties don’t like to share space, And now he gets to live with his father and all his money!
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Spot on with the clever nasty boy!
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I’ve dated a couple!
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LOL!
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Such resounding occurrences of poetic justice leave me sobbing with happiness.
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I wish it would happen to a few more people!
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Out in the real world, poetic justice is a rarity.
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It perhaps happens more often in literature than in life.
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