And here we are again, in Jill Rodrigues sister Lisa Moravek’s book “Serena’s Serenity.” It is a book supposedly about overcoming problems as an Evangelical Christian with the Lord, but it reads like the most petty and whiny middle school girl upset that the other girls have colorful brand new Lisa Frank backpacks while she’s stuck with an old floursack with a strap.
Last week we looked at the very first chapter with the set up that Serena applied for a job as a nanny for Emili Huff. All the while fuming and fussing that she didn’t have it easy. I have a very hard time feeling sorry for her due to having worked a pile of crazy jobs and living on ramen noodles while chasing my degree. It sucks. But it is what it is. Whining does not make it any easier. It makes it a lot harder. How do you get out of bed when your brain is insisting you are owed more than a one room crummy apartment and you shouldn’t be working three jobs?
One of the things that drives me the most crazy about this book is the fact that the author skips time lines, she ignores introductions and actions and expects us to read her mind. Chapter two starts off with her mentally complaining yet again about the ‘dirty carpeting’ in the apartment and the stale smell. I guess no one explained to her that renting a rug steam cleaner is cheap and easy just about everywhere.
She shows up for her new nannying gig and has severe envy over the clean fresh house. She wanders around touching things and envying, Her descriptions tells me that the author has never really been inside a genuinely luxurious home, between her descriptions of ‘ice cream-rich purple’ walls and ‘fancy brown wicker furniture.’ Then she meets the housekeeper Barbara and discovers that the gardener, Barbara’s husband Dan, is indeed deaf, not ignoring her.
Then Serena meets her charges, the twins Claire and Blaire, and goes into a multi page rant about how cruel it is that she is caring for someone else’s twins instead of her own twins. Her twins, Brookelle and Joelle, are with her mother in another state, and she cries…. again. The meeting does not go well, neither does the fact that Mrs. Huff, the other twins mother, left a schedule to be followed.
Barbara offers Serena waffles and eggs for breakfast, but Serena turns her down, for what has to be the dumbest of all reasons, even if she’s super hungry:
“She would do nothing to jeopardize her testimony or position.”
Please, eat the damn eggs! Your stomach is rumbling, the housekeeper would not have offered you the meal had it been forbidden and no one ever screwed up their Christianity by eating a damn waffle!
Lots of walking about and then reading and we end up here, with Serena judging the hell out of a pair of four year olds!
“They seemed to appreciate the faddish women-in-charge characters. The modern “princess” types were bold and scantily clad. These four year old girls at her side were well on their way to becoming arrogant like their self-conceited examples. They hadn’t been persuaded about the mystique of modesty and femininity.”
This hateful heifer just threw shade at small children for liking princesses!! This is what four year olds do! Normal non-cult four year olds. Since when did princesses roll about in very little clothing?
Modesty culture is one of the sickest things in that particular world, pervasive with rape embracing theology. It turns even four year olds into objects not safe from the lust of men who cannot control themselves, animalistic men.
Barbara chews out Serena for not keeping to the almighty schedule, and the twins, Blaire and Claire, join in. Then Serena whines she was only ten minutes late on the schedule.
Serena goes off into another pages long envy/guilt/whining bout, missing her twins, feeling like she’s failed them, remembering her house that exploded and killed her other daughter Allegra before she’s chewed out by Mrs. Huff for being off schedule. Again. Apparently Mrs. Huff does not care for reading outside either because the precious books might get dirty.
And the chapter is over. What did we learn? Serena is one petty b-word that needs a few xanax and lots of therapy. Next week her big sin is forgetting her Aldi’s quarter, I kid you not.
Don’t get me started about the Aldi’s quarter! It was one of the bones of contention in our marriage. I kept one in the cup holder, and if the husband drove my car he’d see it and think “Hmm, a whole quarter just languishing here. Guess I’ll take it.” leaving me quarterless at Aldi’s.
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