“You know what I love about the Smurf toddler pictures?”
“No, what?”
“I love that you sat back with the camera and just let her do her thing. Some parents get all bent out of shape about that kind of thing.”
“Well then I did a whole lot better than that…I gave her the pen.”
The story behind the 55 and a little beyond: Last weekend we had a day set aside for potty training. I barricaded Sophia and myself in our basement floor because it’s tiled and there is a bathroom. We played with the big LEGOS and read lots of books. We got bored after a while so I gave her a blue pen and paper. I knew she would draw on herself a little but I ignored it. I heard her drawing on the paper and after about a minute turned to look at her and there she was, Smurf toddler.
Shortly after the pictures, I sat her on the potty and read a few more books while she did nothing. She did the sign for dirty and wanted to wash her hands at the sink so I let her. A couple minutes later she came out saying, “wet, wet, wet”. I’m looking at her like, “no shit, you were just playing in the sink.” Then I saw the blue trail from the ink washing off the bottom of her feet.
“Oh, you peed?”
“Yes.”
Kurt got a little bent out of shape about Smurf toddler. He asked me if it was a special washable pen. I said, “It was a pen off your desk. I’m sure it’ll come off eventually.”
A little later Sophia peed in the potty. She sat on the potty for about 30 minutes while I read to her. She started to go and then looked at me, “uh oh, wet, wet,” and she tried to hold it. Then she saw my big smile and realized it was a good thing, “Yay! Are you peeing in the potty?”
“Yes” she smiled.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
Many encourage bans on ‘bad’ words attempting to render all language inoffensive. It’s not possible. Other terms will convey the same meaning soon becoming offensive. Use of “Joe Six Pack” during the vice presidential debate offends me, what about my rights? Blue vans collecting donations read, “Northwest Center for the Retarded”. Should they change too?
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
“So, what happened to the relationship?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why?”
“We have a long history.”
“Oh, I thought this was a new person.”
“No, we’ve been on again and off again for years.”
“Oh, one of those relationships, what’s the problem?”
“If I tell you, you’ll think less of me.”
“Don’t be silly, that’s not possible.”
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
The motorcycle rolls in, “Daddy’s home,” I say. She runs to the window watching him check the mail, then runs to the top of the stairs. “Eh-Low!” She shouts.
“He can’t hear you from there.” Down the stairs she goes, pushes open the door purposely left ajar, “Eh-low, eh-low, eh-low”. She says in rapid fire.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
My guest and I met with a mutual friend, of sorts. Midway through the visit, I asked my guest, “Have you noticed how he must always RUN up all the stairs?”
“Hmm…”
I attempted to recreate the scene, but failed. Later we passed a StairMaster. Silently, I pointed it out, and we cried with laughter.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
She has swimming classes twice a week. I took her to the park nearly everyday this summer to socialize with other kids. You’d think such efforts would show results. Her peers string two and three word sentences together. I’ve yet to hear ‘mama’. If I’d continued working, keeping her in daycare, would it be different?
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
War of the Worlds unfolded in living rooms around the country. In Concrete Washington, right as the Martians invaded with flashes of light and poison gases, all the radios died. Panic ensued. Some fainted and others fled to guard their moonshine stills. One man even stole gas to see his priest for a last-minute absolution.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
Velvet Ridge is dangerously close to Arkansas’ Bald Knob and from there it’s almost a straight shot to Cumming Iowa. However, Spread Eagle Wisconsin is a touch closer to Cumming and is a scenic trip just off old highway 69. 69 also leads to Felch, Michigan, though it’s usually a backdoor approach. I’d rather Ralph.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
She placed each on the step above, took the next step, and then picked up each item. Always setting down and picking them up in the same order. This is how she carried her coveted sippy-cup, ‘friend’, and cell phone upstairs. Good thing it wasn’t a full flight of stairs. This could take all day!
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
It pains me to have information that points in a sinister direction yet would have no affect if reported. I suppose that is what gives us all our privacy. I hope for the sake of possible victims and their families that this person proves me wrong. I hope already tapped potential is never fully achieved.
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55’s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.
