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Created on: September 27, 2007 Last Updated: October 31, 2008
Who has not heard the story of the wicked step-mom and all the horrible things she has done? It is a theme that is common in our society today. There is hardly a day that goes by without some talk show saying how awful step-parents are. I have to say that I am utterly disappointed by this. I personally have the best step-mom in the world, even though I did not think so when she first came into my life.
My parents divorced when I was really young and I lived with my mom until I was 15. I then decided it was time to move and live with my dad. For awhile it was just my dad and I. We became very close and had a great respect for each other. Then over Christmas break my Junior year in high school, my dad got in contact with his high school sweetheart. I was so happy for him to find the one person he cared so much about again after all these years. What I was not happy about was that she was moving into my house. Yep, I thought of it as my house. It had been my dad and me for awhile and I liked things just the way they were.
I remember shortly after she moved in we had our first big fight over dishes of all things. She was putting dishes away in the wrong place. I promptly told her that she was doing it all wrong. It was then I decided she need to know she was not going to take over my house and I told her so. I am sure there were some other choice things I said. After all, everyone has heard of the wicked step-mom and I was not going to have her do any of that to me. She had never had children of her own and I was not about to become a pet project. Despite my anger and yelling, she stood there, smiled at me ( which was annoying) and tried to assure me that she was not there to do any of those things. She claimed she wanted to get along peacefully and share what I had, not take it from me. She told me it was my father's house and she just wanted to try to make it a home for all of us.
Over the next couple of years, I tested her every chance I got, but she never wavered. She was always there to listen to me, share my feelings and be my friend more than a mother. Don't get me wrong, she let me know when what I was doing was wrong, but in a kind way. After letting me know something was a mistake, she would stand by me and be supportive all the way.
After my senior year I moved out of the house because my dad did not want me dating my boyfriend any more. I was an adult and I paid him rent (a whole $80 a month), but I knew I should be able to do whatever I wanted. While I
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