Sorry Egg Baby

Word of The Day Challenge: EGG

Avery Palmer

Back when I was in Highschool

I took a class called ” Family Living ” and in this class we learned to balance checkbooks, decorate a living room- not with furniture but we helped chose paint and finishings for houses that our carpentry class ( don’t remember what it was actually called ) helped to build.

We even worked on things like figuring out the pros and cons of various wood burning stoves, hot tubs and home electronics.

Then we strted  a unit I called babyland.

We learned about child development and we even had a chance to work with real little kids.

I was fine with that because I babysat a lot and some of the children I I watched were special needs kids.

One of the projects in our  Family Living class was to carry around an egg for a week.

We could decorate our little egg, we  were supposed to name it, we even had a little ‘baby book’ and that we had to fill out.

Our teacher even went as far as to check up on us in our other classes and and she had her teacher’s assistants check up on us to make sure our Egg Babies were with us.

It was fun.

The not so fun part was that if you found a little red ” x ” on  your egg it meant that your Egg Baby was disabled.

Guess who got the flawed egg?

Some students took extra good care of their disabled Egg Baby- but I have to admitt, I did not.

I knew what it was like to have to put diapers on a eight year old. I knew what it was like to have people stare at the child in your care and have them ask, ” What’s wrong with it.. I mean her.”

I knew what it was like to find a Mom crying in her backyard because her three year old child’s grandfather had said, ” I guess his life is over already.”

Seeing that little red “X” broke my heart and at that moment I decided I didn’t want to play.


I was in my science class when one of my Family Living Teacher’s assistants came in.

She bounced up to my desk ( all of this teacher’s assistants were perky, I think it was a pre requistate to work with her ) and said, ‘ Ok. Where is your baby?”

I looked up and said, ” it’s in my locker ”

” Well. She said primly, ” you’re supposed to have it with you at all times. ” she took up her clipboard and was about to put a zero next to my name when out of my mouth fell the words,

” Well.”  I said just as primly but with a little bit of anger, “It was supposed to be normal. ”

You know, there are words that you say that haunt you forever and for some reason those words will always haunt me.

I’m sorry Egg Baby. I should have given you a real name.


Avery Palmer

Giulia Tofana


Guilia was a poisoner, to put a very fine point on it you could say she was poison because Guilia’s purpose in life was to create and dispense death and destruction.

She learned her craft from her Mother-  legend says Guilia used her skills to kill abusive husbands because in 17th century Rome women were property of their husbands and the only way out of those marriages was if someone died.

I have a hard time accepting the image, as put forth by some,  of Guilia as some kind of savior.

Given that Guilia was paid for her services and even told her paying customers how to answer questions and appear grief stricken I seriously doubt if Guilia did what she did for justice or  that she deserves any form of accolades for being a heroine for oppressed and abused  women.

The one aspect of the story that put the hairs on the back of my neck up was this- she learned her skill from her Mother ( who murdered her own husband ) she told her customers how to fake human emotion and behave when they were questioned after the deed was done.

I’ve watched enough episodes of Dexter and binged on the Murder Channel ( I’m not sure what the channel is actually  called, but they feature true crime stories on the weekend ) to know a psychopath  when I see one.

So I’m perfectly willing to go out on a limb and  take the stand that Guilia was a serial killer, that she did what she did because she recognized a lucrative market and that it’s very doubtful her only customers were abused  women who had no where else to turn.

Safe to say if you showed up at Guilia’s door with money, you’d leave with something in your hand and within a few days you’d have one less problem-ANY PROBLEM in your life then you did before you sought out the Palermo Poisoner.

Justice marched on and Guilia and her daughter and three of her ‘helpers’ were executed for their dark deeds  in 1659-given up as the story goes by a customer who had put Guilia’s poison into her husband’s soup and then prevented him from eating it.

Her customer had a change of heart or simply lacked the taste for murder that Guilia had.