After more than 40 years I believe that it is time for a confession.
When my brother and I were small kids, he decided one day to behead all my barbie dolls. Yes, just like that. For fun. After cutting the heads off, he placed them all next to each other, just above the bodies. I was angry. I put soap on his little toothbrush, every evening, for the next three weeks. But that wasn’t enough. Who touches my barbies, will feel my revenge.
My brother used to have dolls as wel; they looked like little soldiers. He could happily play with them, for hours and hours. Since I was still mad as butter, I decided to take some more revenge. In a quiet moment (well ok to establish that, I had to lock my brother up in the cellar for a while…), I took the scissors from my mums kitchen drawer and cut of the noses, fingers and feet of all this poppets.
Beware of the wrath of little girls.
Apart from this incident, we were a fine and normal family. I think.
Taking revenge is not very civilised and often not a smart thing to do, but that’s why it is so much fun to read about it. Isn’t it?
Keeping the honour to yourself? Ha. Why would you. The fire of ‘satisfaction’ burns much stronger than the soft glowing candle called ‘empathy’ for your victim. Showing understanding in times of rage and emotional excitement? Nah, that doesn’t sound like fun…
And how am I doing? Have I become a revengeful wrench who fills her days with boiling bunnies? Or did I turn into a softie who wouldn’t even kill a mosquito who’s bugging her all night long?
Yes, sometimes I’m still encountering situations in which I almost can’t resist to taste the sweet taste of revenge. To lash out to whoever dared to cross my path.
However the truth is: I like to fantasise about revenge, but in reality my counter actions are merely tiny little expressions of frustration. They barely count.
However, if anyone ever dares to touch my barbie dolls, beware of my wrath. You can count on that.