Friday, March 29, 2013

5 Minute Friday: Broken


My dad fixes things that are broken. So does my husband. Evidence: Two hours spent trying to fix my outgoing email last night. What a man! Me? I'm far more likely to throw it out and buy a new one. Why? Because I like new things? Yes, that is true. Because there is something a little magical about new things? Remember when you'd get gifts for your birthday, and it would lead to an entire bedroom clean-out because your beautiful new doll just couldn't lay in a big heap with all the one-eyed, frizzy haired uglies with the torn dresses. Which leads to cleaning out the toybox, which leads to cleaning out the closet etc. etc.

But my children are different. They treasure the things they already have and often have trouble with my logic of throw-it-away-and-get-a-new-one. That 10-cent Polly Pocket who lost her arm is simply too valuable to toss in the trash. And that's where my dad, the hero, comes in. He will fix anything, even a teeny Polly Pocket doll who has seen better days. For the love of his granddaughters, he will do it. And it will probably be better than before. He may even add a teeny necklace made out of rice or have my mom sew a pink satin pillow for her to lay her puny head.

Broken is beautiful around these parts because it reveals the love of a man for two little girls.

Joining the writers over here today for five minutes of unedited free writing in five minutes, based on the prompt: Broken. Fun!

Five Minute Friday

Monday, March 25, 2013

That Was Fun. Let's Do it Again.

The black old lady stretched and yawned, rolling her neck from side to side and blinking her wide, green eyes rapidly to chase the sleep out of them. Her bed was a nest, soft and cozy, positioned inches from the radiator. This should be a good day, she thought to herself. A cheshire grin crept on to her cheeks. As usual, her mind turned to murder.

That nasty little girl, the one they brought here--to her HOME, mind you--the Interloper...certainly that childish little brat was gone by now. Surely! There were traps set all over the house, and she grinned as she imagined the Brat falling into any one of them while the rest of the world slept peacefully. Drowning, electrocution, hanging, poisoned food...any one of those would do. All of them were too good for that kid.

She ambled to the door, stretching again for good measure. She asked to be let in, softly at first, then more insistently. Finally, the door opened, and she darted in. Ugh. What was that smell? Why wasn't everyone crying and wailing over the death of the kid? What was going on anyway?

From behind the door, the kitten jumped onto her back and they rolled, all hiss, teeth and claws, across the kitchen floor. Curses! She was still here! And alive. Another day begins.

The prompt, from Write Starts by Hal Zina Bennett: Find Your Inner Cat.

Friday, March 22, 2013

5 Minute Friday: Remember

Remember when you were her whole world? Just the two of you, all day long. Anyone who wanted to be in her life had to go through you. If there was a kid who didn't play nicely, they were cut out of the picture. Just like that. No mercy. You didn't care a whit about that poor mom's insecurities, the problems she was facing or that child's socializing deficits. Chop. And you didn't have to do no 'splainin' to nobody.

Now? You don't get to chop. You send her out into the world for seven hours and forty-five minutes, give or take. Not to mention weekends, sleepovers, trips to the mall. If someone's mean to her, you have to stand back and "guide" her, in all your flawed and insufficient wisdom. You grasp for that just-right piece of talk-show advice, that encouraging nugget from that parenting book you read so long ago...What was it? What was it? "You teach people how to treat you."

And then you bite your tongue until it bleeds.

It would be so much easier to chop.

Joining the writers at over here today for five minutes of unedited free writing in five minutes, based on the prompt: Remember. Fun!

Five Minute Friday