Barefoot Cinderella

1. Welcome To My World

"Arielllllllllll..... HURRY UP!" said a voice that always reminded me of the sound tortured animal would make if he was being grated down a cheese grater.

"You know I cannot be late. Fashionably late yes, but not too late. It leaves a sour impression and you know how much I detest doing that."

God! I really wish Rhea would stop talking in that fake British accent. She broke up with Daniel weeks ago. I mean it was one thing to try to lure him in with what Rhea considers to be a voice no man and ever resist but completely another to use it on me this early in the morning when she had me cleaning up her closet late in the night for no apparent reason. I need my sleep too. Taking care of this wretched family is a full time job, not to add to it that they already have me take a another job so I could manage my "personal" expenses.

I just wish I hadn't been taught to be this nice... Correction! I wish I hadn't been sworn into being this nice, or I would have been saying all of this to Rhea's face and not mulling all over it in my head and putting an effective end to that sultry cough! (not) cough! voice.

"Hurry baby girl....."

Now that does it!

"Rhea, don't you think I am too old to be called baby girl, especially...."

"I call all my chicas baby girl you know. They don't seem to mind. In fact they all LOOOOVE it!" stretching the oooo indefinitely, making we wish I hadn't spoken in the first place.

Instead of replying I concentrated on getting the right balance of low fat milk and berries into the mixer since I had no intention of making this fruitarian breakfast for Rhea fourth time in a row. She exclaimed I was high on milk the first two times and the third time, it didn't sit well with our lovely Rhea's flavor pallet.

Sometimes I wished I owned a machete.... For no reason of course.

"Ariel..."

Some people need to understand that the person operating a blender is usually unable to hear the some murmur of what people consider as their "calling" voice over the roar of the blender.

"ARIEL!!!" this time she deigned herself to what could be called as her yelling voice from the kitchen doorway.

Apparently it has the desired effect since that was the moment I chose to turn the blender off and her voice made me jump. "Yes stepmother?"

"You know I do not like to ask for something twice, still day in and day out you make me do this. Have you no compassion for my poor nerves."

Nerves? Who was she? Poor old Mrs. Bennet?

"I have the highest regard for them madam. What would you like for breakfast today?" Jeez, sounding like a barista in my own home, I cannot stoop any lower than this.

"Spanish Omelette please, with a freshly hand squeezes orange juice."

"Of course ma'am." I said with a sweet smile to compensate for what I was about to do next. "Why don't you go rest in your bedroom while I prepare your breakfast and bring it to you there?" so that I can pour you a class full out of the store bought juice and you would never know, I thought to myself.

"Wonderful" and that is all it took for her majesty to leave.

"There you go Rhea." Per her instructions, I had poured her fruitarian breakfast in a disposable large cup, much like the one you can get from Starbucks. Why? Well because she could tell her super-fake friends that she gets it from this uber chic place wherever it was instead of telling them it was home-made.