By: K. V. Orr
My Little Empty Nest
My name’s Karen Johnson, there’s nothing special about me. I have a husband, Jim, and a daughter, Kaitlyn. She just left for college a few weeks ago. I miss her a lot, but I know she’s doing well. I mean, I’m a little hurt that she didn’t take any time between senior year and college to spend time with her mom; I took time off to spend time with her when she was born. It only seems fair. But it’s her choice. While dealing with my empty nest I’ve started selling Komfy Kitchen products, overpriced blenders and knives, the usual. I’m more focused on recruiting other women to work for me and sell my products for me. The woman that signed me up says it’s not a pyramid scheme, but it is. Today I am going over to Kaitlyn’s friends house, her mother, Jill, is going through her own empty nest syndrome and I think it’s a good time to give her something to do, that being selling my kitchen supplies.
I walk the two blocks to her house, KK magazine in hand, and knock on the door. She invites me in and asks if I’ve heard from the girls, her daughter tagged along with Kaitlyn and they’re in the same dorm. I catch her up and then ask “Jill, the real reason I’m here is to ask you if you’re happy with the supplies in your kitchen? Or are you finding that you have too much time on your hands without your daughter here?” Then I asked if she’d want to sell with me. She was smiling at something else.
“No, I won’t have too much extra time on my hands, Eric and I are finally announcing that we’re expecting again!” She giggled.
That bitch. She said we were supposed to deal with our empty nests together, and now she’s starting over. I bet she did this one on purpose, just like she did in high school. “Oh my, well that’s some news.” slowly making my way back to the door. Well, I guess I’ll bring over some baby catalogs for you then.
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It’s been five months and I’ve only sold a few products, and haven’t been able to sign anyone up for Komfy Kitchen to work for me. It’s okay, it’s supposed to be slow at first, that’s what I hear anyways. What I’m really upset about is that Jill signed up to sell KK with someone else. It makes no sense; she and I are so much closer. She draws people in with her pregnancy and they sympathize with her, being so old and knocked up, and they buy all her stuff instead of mine. It’s a cheap gimmick, but she’s ready to burst, then her cash cow and free time will be gone and I’ll be the one on the top of the pyramid.
I stopped over at Jill’s house again, it’s pretty late. I know she said Eric was out of town on business so I thought it would be nice to, um, to keep her company. I sneak in through the window of what will be the new nursery. It’s all neutral colors; they don’t want to know the sex until it’s born. Jill’s in bed already, which is perfect. I sneak up on her and cover her mouth with a rag I drenched with chloroform, she panicked when I put it over her face but slowly she faded out. I slide her pants down to her ankles and take out my rubbing alcohol and my scalpel. I start the incision at her bellybutton and go all the way down. I reach in and pull out my prize, a new baby boy.