Precisely. That is why I never went to see that film “Sophie’s Choice”, I had heard enough about the plot of the story. People just don’t do stuff like that. Or – I sure wouldn’t do something like choose one kid over the other.

In this situation I’m thinking “kill me”. For some reason the dudes really need me instead of my kids. Okay…then I’ll make you blow my head off. Frigging frightening to contemplate, but maybe the best out if they think you are totally committed to that.

Just remember, ladies, don’t suppress your inner Mama Bear!

Hell, yeah, go down fighting.

The problem with playing nice for any length of time is that people start getting the idea that I’m heading up some kind of democracy here. Just to be clear, I’m not. If anything on here offends you, there are plenty of other places to visit.

I am adopted. Didn’t find out until my adopted mother was in a nursing home, stricken by a massive stroke and dying. Even at her death, my adopted father refused to admit the truth. When he passed away, every family member of theirs and every lifelong friend of mine spoke up to tell me. Hard thing to learn at any age but even more so when you are in your fifties. Harder thing to learn that everybody except you knew but were too afraid of your parents to tell you.

If there was a choice of my life or the children, I’d offer mine. I’d *insist* mine be taken. If that wasn’t an option, I’d let the bitch in me out and do my damnedest to brutally mutilate the guy, yelling for the kids to run. If I succeeded in killing the kidnapper, I’d go after my husband. You are just as guilty of two murders as you are of one and in that case I believe a nice case of protecting your young, self-defense, and then temporary insanity would sway any jury.

I wouldn’t serve a day.