Work Text:
Dear Moses,
Fuck you.
I'm a Midianite Princess and you're supposed to be the one called by God, or whatever the hell you said happened. You're the one whose crazy god spoke to you from a bush, out in the field when you were hot and exhausted after a long day of wandering around a field talking to sheep while I cook your meals, clean your clothes, take care of your son, instead of from an idol in a temple like a normal god. You're the one whose nation completely rejected you when you tried to help them, yet you're still running back on a whim to try to free them from slavery again, against the most powerful nation around.
And most of all, you're the one whose maniac of a bloodthirsty god demanded that you cut the foreskin off of our son at 8 days of age. If he speaks to you directly, why didn't he give you a reminder? Why didn't old bushy bush pop up a flame to say "Hey Moses, cut the foreskin off your son or bad things will happen to you? This is your twelve o'clock reminder to perform bris milah!"
So fuck you. Seriously. I married you because you were handsome, and princely, and you acted gentlemanly at first, but most of all I married you because it seemed like you were on the run and I liked that because it meant you'd have nowhere else to go. If I was going to marry out of the tribe, I wanted to marry someone with incentive to stay. And now you have to pull this crap on me. Fuck you.
Circumcise your own damn son! It's not my gods who command it, it's yours. Why should I have to lose my son because of your irresponsibility, your forgetfulness, and your crazy invisible god who hates idols?
Love,
Tzipporah bat Yitro