The Chicken Drumstick Curse

The day my dad remarried, my stepmother, Sharon, gently welcomed me into her home. She’d simmered chicken soup for three hours just for me.

But as I picked up a drumstick and took a few bites, she suddenly grabbed the scalding hot soup and poured it all over my head.

“Look at your wonderful daughter, David! She was born to bring misfortune to our family, wasn't she?”

I shrieked, burned and bewildered, looking at Dad, hoping he’d speak up for me.

Instead, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, slapped it on the table – a document severing our father-daughter relationship – and said…