It never ceases to amaze me the stories the children bring home from school. A few years ago, when Sophia was in 5th grade, she was studying the Inuit Indians and was horrified to learn that when they fell on hard times they resorted to cannibalism, but they only ate the girls because they figured they were the most expendable. I still remember the terrified look on her face when she told me, ”Mom, can you believe it? They ate the girls!” We went on to have a discussion about the sexism of only eating girls and not, say, the old guys. It was a learning opportunity, albeit, bizarre. Wait, there’s more.Eva, on the other hand, relished the shock value of her news when she discussed at dinner last night her report on the Aztecs who believed the tears from babies would bring on rain so they ate their babies as a sacrifice to the gods. She went into great detail about rituals and fires, but I will spare you.  I let her go on about it because I realized that she did not quite register that this stuff really happened. To her it more fantastic, like a cartoon or a fairytale. Kind of like the witch in Hansel and Gretel who is fattening up the children so she can toss them in the oven and roast them. I later read her report which said, “In conclusion, even though the Aztec people’s religious beliefs of eating babies seems insane to us, it was their way of bringing on the rain, getting the sun to rise and to basically bring order to their lives.” Order to their lives??!! Eating babies??!! It got me thinking. Even though I embarrass my children by singing in public, nag them to do their homework and clean their rooms, at least I don’t eat babies. I’m lookin’ good. This stepmother ain’t so wicked after all. By the way, I once played the witch in Hansel and Gretel in my senior year in college. I was very believable.