My husband called down into the basement to wish our 8 year old daughter a good morning. Her response…
~Autumn Cook (Age 8)
Well… have you? Lol… If so, what did you try and what have you discovered? 😉
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I am the oldest of three and grew up with a sister who is seven years younger than me. I can still remember the very first time our mother served my sister a chicken leg for dinner. She was probably about four years old, and she looked up at our mother, with her innocent baby blue eyes, and in her teeny tiny voice she said,
Everyone promptly burst out laughing and it’s been something which none of us have ever forgotten. I really wish I would have written down more of the things my own girls have said over the years. There were a ton of funny things, but sadly I can’t remember the majority of them anymore.
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*My husband wrote this note and gave it to me several months ago. I consider it to be, one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.
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This just popped up on my Facebook page a few days ago. It’s a memory from three years ago. I still remember this like it was yesterday. Still makes me laugh!
March 9, 2014 –
Well, my day was full of a few laughs… Hubby thought he was bleeding to death from a giant hole on the bottom of his foot, when he realized in actuality, that it was only a smashed chocolate chip which he had somehow stepped on.
Then, our daughter Autumn came home from church with a smiley faced toy they had given her. She took one look at it and said… “This thing doesn’t even have a nose on its face… idiots!” I guess the manufacturer of that particular toy, just cannot impress this 5 yr old one bit! Now I’m off to bed, goodnight all! ~M
Continued from: Tales of the Dark Side – (Part 1, The Broom Incident)
It was actually quite comforting to be back home. Five months of military training had worn me out, and I was excited to have a few weeks off, before having to report to my first permanent duty station.
As I readied the kitchen to steam the spice broom, I began to daydream about a guy I had recently met during AIT. He had the bluest eyes of anyone I had ever met, and I loved the way they lit up whenever I caught him smiling at me.
Mom didn’t know it yet, but I had actually gotten a tattoo while I was in AIT, and this guy I liked, (Kyle) had actually forked over the money to pay for my tattoo. He had even told me that he wanted to marry me and had begun working an extra job, in order to save for our future together. And yet I was still surprised to see twenty-four long stemmed roses delivered to the house earlier that day. I wondered… could he really be the one?
After becoming lost in my thoughts of Kyle, I soon realized the pot of water had begun to boil. Grabbing the spice broom, I carefully held it over the steaming pot of water. The rich spicy scent of cinnamon soon enveloped the tiny kitchen, and I stood there patiently steaming the broom, entranced by thoughts of Kyle and reveling in the euphoric smell which now engulfed me.
All of a sudden, my day-dreamy eyes caught sight of a wisp of smoke, which seemed to be curling up from underneath the broom. Then, not even a second later, the entire broom burst into flames. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and for a split second, I had no idea what to do. I began to panic, shaking the broom violently, hoping this would somehow put the fire out.
I had just been trained on how to: throw a live grenade, operate a machine gun, set up a land mine, fire a grenade launcher, shoot an M16 rifle, survive in a gas chamber, fight off a person using hand to hand combat, stab someone efficiently with a bayonet, and yet for the life of me, I had no idea in this moment, how to put out the blazing fire which was now right in front of me.
Then suddenly out of nowhere, instinct kicked in and I knew what I had to do. So without another thought, I held onto the broom as tightly as I could and raced to the back door. I pushed open the glass sliding door as far as it would go and then threw the broom down onto the concrete patio. I began stomping out the fire as best I could and then ran quickly back inside to get a bucket of water.
The broom was still smoldering when I returned, and yet the water did the trick. The broom hissed and steamed at me as I doused it with the entire bucket of water. Looking down, all that was left, was the tightly woven handle of the broom, the rest of it had completely disintegrated into a pile of ash.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, I went back into the kitchen, where a thick haze of smoke now lingered near the ceiling. I knew my parents were sure to kill me when they returned. My stupidity had almost cost them their entire house, and I felt like a complete idiot. So much for the courageous soldier, I thought I had become. It turned out, I was still the same foolish girl I had always been.
The Daily Post prompt – Instinct
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Continuation of: Tales of the Dark Side – (Part 1, Childhood Pranks)
For the remainder of the day, I sat in my cramped bedroom; starring at the ugly whitewashed walls. I was still furious because of the coke spitting incident; and my mother always seemed to take my brother’s side, since he was the youngest. I knew, however, that my brother was not such an innocent darling; regardless of what my mother thought.
Admittedly, I wasn’t the most virtuous child either. Yet now, as a teenager, I felt I had the right to express myself; and l knew I couldn’t just let my brother get away with ruining my expensive jacket. I had to take matters into my own hands. The thing was, I had no idea what I could do to repay my brother for his cruel assault on my jacket.
My mother watched me like a hawk, and she swooped down at every opportunity, to steal away my advantage; which is why I knew I had to be extremely sneaky when planning my retribution. A few days passed, and my brother continued to repeat his same old shenanigans. One night, I even caught him drinking an entire bottle of Hershey’s syrup. Of course, it did no good to tattle on him, mom would never believe her precious son would do such a thing; and even if she suspected such things, she disregarded the idea as nonsense.
I mostly just stayed locked away in my room. Knowing full-well that anything I said, could quite possibly be used against me. One afternoon, though, my mother was out once again. It was just my brother, sister, and me. As I was making lunch for the three of us, I noticed a brown bag in the refrigerator and wondered what was inside. After further inspection, I realized it was a urine sample, my mother was supposed to take to her doctor appointment the very next day. I also noticed that the urine was in an old maraschino cherry jar, and suddenly a very naughty idea came to my mind.
As I was contemplating my next move, my little sister skipped into the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but divulge to her what I was about to do. Taking the jar of urine out of the bag, I left it on one of the shelves in the refrigerator and then proceeded to call my brother into the kitchen. He came running in, all smiles, wondering what I wanted. I said, “Hey David, there’s an empty jar of maraschino cherries in there, but the leftover juice from the cherries is still in the jar, and I give you permission to drink it.”
Happily, my brother went to the fridge and helped himself. Putting the jar to his mouth, he proceeded to take a big gulp of what he thought was cherry juice. The reaction was almost instantaneous, as he quickly realized whatever was in that jar, was not cherry juice. My sister and I started laughing uncontrollably, as my brother demanded to know what was in that jar. I could barely speak I was laughing so hard, and boy was he furious when he found out what I had tricked him into drinking.
The funny thing is, our mother came home later that evening, nobody, not even my brother dared to tell her what had happened. I think my brother was too embarrassed by what he had done, and my sister and I knew of course what mom would do to us if she ever found out. Let’s just say, my brother wasn’t so eager to steal food out of the fridge anymore, and he has never forgotten that horrible prank I pulled on him. But we’re even now, and that’s all that matters.
The Daily Post prompt – Not Lemonade
I’ve been thinking about getting back into drawing and painting. It’s been such a long time since I’ve done much of anything. The most I seem to accomplish anymore, is explaining certain art techniques to my girls.
Today I came across these old art projects of mine. I painted the tiger 29 years ago, and I drew the sketch of my oldest daughter when she was 2 years old. Unfortunately, neither one of these projects has ever been completely finished.
The painting of the tiger was for a class project. There were three of us in the class, who were basically given the same assignment. We were all told to draw the same tiger, and we were given a photo out of a magazine to share as a reference. The only difference was, I was assigned the job of painting the tiger, while another girl was told to draw hers using ink, and the boy who was chosen, was told to use pencil.
I have to say, their drawings turned out so much better than my painting. I wish I had a picture of their completed assignments. They were both amazingly talented, and I felt quite inferior when I saw their finished results. In fact, the girl in my class, actually won an award for her ink drawing. I am quite sure she must have gone on, and made a career out of her artistic abilities.
I was quite disappointed, because I ran out of time for completing my assignment. It was the first time I had ever had the opportunity to do a painting, and so it took me awhile to figure out how to work with the acrylic paints. Plus, I was in a drawing class at the time, and my teacher decided to have me be the only student to do a painting. So I really had no idea what I was doing.
My teacher must have known that I’d be able to figure it out though, and so he sent me home with a set of paints to play around with. I really wish I could have spent more time on the project. The bottom portion of the painting lacks the detail I wanted to add; but because I was forced to hand the painting in for grading, I had to leave it unfinished. I remember the day the project was due, I got to class 10 minutes early, just so I could add the whiskers. Nothing like waiting until the last minute! Lol…
So what do all of you you think? Should I attempt to throw myself back into a little bit of artwork once again? It might be fun to at least designate one night a week for drawing or painting. I’m still unsure of where to even begin at this point in my life, but I think it would be a nice change of pace once and awhile.
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With the New Year approaching, I started thinking about the list of things I learned in 2015, and thought I should do another list for this year as well. So without further ado… here’s what I came up with.
1.) How important it is to set aside time to read.
2.) To just be myself and not worry what others might think about me.
3.) Not to hold anything back when it comes to love.
4.) That random acts of kindness are good for the soul.
5.) To never give up on someone.
6.) That my girls really are as crazy as I am.
7.) That I enjoy macaroni and cheese entirely too much.
8.) To be more understanding.
9.) That going to the gym isn’t entirely overrated.
10.) That I enjoy having time alone.
11.) What it feels like to be told that you may have cancer.
12.) How hard it is to recover from loneliness.
13.) Not to push people beyond what they are comfortable with.
14.) That I have a heart for people who need to be cared for.
15.) That I like to have plenty of time to plan ahead.
16.) How having a brightly painted room, can completely altar one’s perspective.
17.) How much I love homemade chai tea.
18.) How girly I really am.
19.) That my house can be messy and I don’t really care.
20.) How a single note both good or bad can affect my entire day.
21.) How quiet my house really is with only two daughters living here instead of four.
22.) That I can’t eat tomatoes or anything spicy anymore without consequences.
23.) That really good job opportunities are extremely rare nowadays.
24.) How in just a few short months, my daughters can be married and gone.
25.) The importance of a true and trusted friend.
How about you? What have you learned over this past year or over the course of your lifetime?
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Everyone is starting to tell me that you aren’t really real. But Santa, I want you to know that I still believe in you. Don’t get me wrong, I know that the Santa at the mall isn’t really you, but actually just one of your many helpers. Yet I know you really must exist, because my mom told me that you’re best friends with God, and I know she wouldn’t lie. God seems really far away, and I’m not quite sure he actually hears me sometimes. So Santa, could you please give him a message for me? This Christmas, all I want is for all the sick people in the world to be healed and for everyone to be happy. Even if it’s just for one day. So could you please ask him for me? I wrote him a letter last year, and I don’t think he got it, as it is still on my window sill. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s really all I want. Thanks Santa, you’re the best!
Michelle (8 Yrs. old)
I was recently challenged to write a letter to Santa, after I challenged my friend Paul to do the same thing. You can read his letter here. The letter above was based on a memory I have, of writing a letter to God when I was a little girl. I wish I still had that letter, it would be so much fun to read now. Anyway, hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season, and I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! And don’t forget the true reason why we celebrate. Love you guys! ~M xoxo
In the spirit of Halloween, here’s the beginning of a short story, that I wrote a couple of years ago. Enjoy!
Nobody knows my secret and sometimes I doubt who I am myself. There’s a part of me that misses being human and another part of me that remembers the heartache that human life brings. The emotional ties to people no longer exist in my current state. I am finally able to be who I’ve always wanted to be, free of the emotional hang ups that used to rip my heart right out of my chest. Now I call the shots, I make the rules, I set the stage. Isn’t this what living should be? Nobody telling me what to do or how to live my life. But then, why do I feel so alone sometimes… so lost? I don’t even care that I just killed an innocent person, I needed to feed and they were there. It was an easy choice, too easy I suppose. But isn’t that the thrill of being a vampire? Taking what you want, anytime, anywhere and never thinking twice about who you hurt. What more could I want out of life? And yet, I wonder… is there something more? Am I missing a key piece, to this puzzle called life? Should I be afraid of who I have become? I guess only time will tell and until then, I know I will enjoy this deranged way of living. I can’t wait to meet my next victim. They always seem so surprised to see me, and I can literally hear their hearts beating right out of their chests before I go in for the kill. It’s always the same in every person I come across, and in an instant they are free from the agony of this terrible world; this sad, chaotic, frightful world. So I guess in a way, I am really just doing them a favor, and in return, I get to continue living an eternity of blood lusting bliss. I do feel some pity for the young ones that cross my path. But unfortunately for them, my instincts are purely animalistic and I have no conscience either way. I have hardly any recollection on how I ended up like this. It seems like a dream that happened long ago. I may never fully regain my memory of that particular day, but on occasion I do see glimpses of my past. The images I see are hazy at best, and feelings of emptiness flood my mind as I try to hold onto a particular memory when they do flash by. I always see the same image, a dark shadowy figure of a man coming towards me, and then in the very next instant, a bright light flashes all around me. Then there’s nothing… nothing at all.