When I was five I was a girly-girl with all the accoutrements of that time (late 1860’s but let’s pretend it was the 1970’s) and let me tell you, I was rich in plastic jewelry, fake makeup, and stinky perfume. I’m sure my Mom & Dad, not wanting us (my sisters and I) to ingest the perfume, warned us that it was poison. (Just as a side note: Why do they put so many things in toothpaste tubes? Our elderly babysitter Mrs. Cates brushed our teeth with Brill Cream more than once! But I digress..)..
One day, playing by myself as usual (I could control EVERYTHING that way, and no one was picking on me or telling me not to eat my boogers, either!) I experimented with pouring a little bit of perfume in a plastic cup and added water. I wasn’t going to drink it, I did it purely for scientific purposes. I was five! It turned a milky white. Good to know. Poured it out.
Now you know there was always a neighborhood bully around, and ours lived just across the street. You know I’m changing her name. I’ll call her Bennifer Boslin. Well Bennifer Boslin was awful mean to me and she just plain scared me! I was afraid to go play in the cul-de-sac with the other kids, darn it! Not long after my little experiment, I hatched a plan. I was gonna kill Bennifer Boslin! That would be the end of all of my troubles.
I mixed up some of my perfume potion and sauntered out to the cul-de-sac the next day. “Hi Bennifer! Would you like some milk?” I inquired sweetly. Bennifer Boslin took a glug and immediately spat it out. “What is that, poison?” she yelled indignantly. “Yyyyes” I stammered, and I turned and ran, back to my house, to my lab, the bathroom. Durn. Foiled again!
And that is the story of how Bennifer Boslin lived to see another day, and I avoided doing hard time in the clink at the age of five.
Pictured: The five-year-old would-be killa