Penelope

My name is not actually Penelope. I wanted to write anonymously so I can be brutally honest about various topics. And complain. Mostly complain. However, the name Penelope does hold a special place in my heart and I thought I would share her story.

Growing up, I was a pretty good kid. I was told I threw one tantrum my whole life- and that was only a half-hearted attempt after watching another kid do it. It didn’t work, and I never tried again. As wonderful (haha) as I was, every kid has to have some sort of threat looming in order to stay within the lines of goodness. Enter Penelope.

Penelope was my Grandpa’s granddaughter. “Doesn’t that make you cousins?” No. It doesn’t. Penelope was perfect. She did her homework before it was even assigned. She always showered her family with hugs and sweetness. She never put her elbows on the table at dinnertime, or forgot to put the napkin in her lap. She wore her manners on her sleeve and she probably practiced folding doilies in her sleep. She was never sassy and never used sarcasm. She was a giant pain in the ass. If I did something wrong, Penelope’s perfection was used against me. Penelope would never do that! Penelope is ALWAYS (fill in the blank using literally every positive adjective in the English language). And I would try to live up to Penelope. I really would. But here’s the kicker…. SHE DIDN’T EXIST.

What???!!! You read that correctly. My grandpa literally MADE UP an imaginary granddaughter that he would wield as a weapon to coerce me into good behavior. Most nice Italian kids get threatened with the wooden spoon. Or a shingle. I got threatened with REPLACEMENT. What kind of mind warping, brainwashing crap was that?!! I mean, this was NEXT LEVEL. It was truly genius. I’m considering creating Ken and Tommy alter-sons to threaten my children with when they get older.

To this day, the name Penelope sends shivers down my spine. On a subconscious level, I assume that all Penelope’s are evil and plotting to replace unsuspecting grandchildren. Thank God I don’t know any in real life. So, when I was choosing an alter-ego for this blog, I thought it would be cathartic to assume her identity and kill her off once and for all. Adieu Penelope.

Did your parents have any creative (albeit slightly deranged) forms of discipline?