MyBC3

Today’s writing prompt is to write about a time you said a bad word when you were a kid. The catch is you can’t use the word in your story.

It was my twelfth birthday party. We decided to combine my birthday party and my dads. His birthday was about four weeks after mine so I guess it made sense. I don’t remember really ever agreeing to it, but to be fair they never really asked. We had an above ground pool and of course that was my only focus at the party. I could stay in the pool the whole time and not have to really interact with anyone.

We were all playing in the pool at this particular time. We already ate and did presents so i figure we are close to done here. I had a couple of friends over but mostly there was just family members there. The usual suspects were there, a couple of grandpas and a grandma or three. My step mom yelled out that it was time to do one of the events she had planned for the party. I decided to see how long I could pretend to be under water every time she yelled out. I kept diving down and pretending like I couldn’t hear her. I popped out in the wrong spot and thought that I was alone with my friend and used a few choice words to describe my step mom. Guess who was standing right there outside of the pool within hearing distance? Yep, my step mom was right there already yelling at me because I was being a tatter head. Now I have said very mean and hurtful things about her and I was sure I was in for it.

It’s funny now that I think about it, this story is also the story of the last spanking I got. Yeah spanked at age twelve! She dragged me to my bead room and spank me. Can you believe it!?

It isn’t one of my fondest memories, but I still can’t believe what a bone head I was that day.

This is one I started last week and for no good reason it took me forever to finish.

The prompt was to write about something or someone with a lot of repetitions and to let the repetition come out in the writing. Here it is….

Get up, where’s my slippers, stand up walk to bathroom.

Wash hands.

Brush teeth, floss, comb hair.

Wash hands.

This is my morning. This is how I start the day. After this I will go to the kitchen and start another routine.

Open the fridge, grab the eggs, the sausage and the milk.

Where’s my stirring bowl, oh there it is. Time to start the coffee.

Wash hands.

Bread in the toaster, mix the eggs, pour into the eggs pan. Grab the sausage skillet place 3 sausage’s in. Set timer for 3.5 minutes.

Open the fridge, put away the milk, the sausage and the eggs.

Wash hands.

Toast is done, eggs too. Place toast and eggs on a plate. Wash the eggs pan, dry it, and put it away. Toaster is cool now, put it away.

Wash hands.

Pour a cup of coffee, 1 cream, 3 sugars. Throw away the trash. Sausage is done, place it on the plate and wash the sausage skillet. Dry it and put it away. Place the plate on the table, one folded napkin and one fork.

Wash hands.

Morning time is done after I eat, wash the plate and fork dry them and put them away.

Wash hands.

Get in the car to head to work. Check all the mirrors and back out of the drive way. Drive the 4.8 miles to work. Park in my spot and walk to the building.

Clean hands, with hand sanitizer.

Most of my day consist of bathroom breaks and avoiding handshakes. Quickly eat my lunch and wash up after that. I wait out my time at my desk, while doing what I can to avoid making a mess.

After I leave I go back home, wash my hands and star my dinner. I eat my meal, I watch my shows then I go to bed. I sleep and wait for it all to start again.

Stop don’t do that!

Don’t take the last piece!

Don’t touch that!

Give it back!

Come here, come here, COME HERE!

Listen, that’s all I ask you to do. This is the plea we make with our children. Our wonderful lovely children. They are the apples of our eyes, the thing that should keep us going every day.

Why do we argue with these little people? Why do we try to explain what they don’t want to understand?

It’s the parents curse, the cross we bare. We choose to do this and we will. We keep on having the talks and we keep on shouting out commands. But in the end I think we are all damed.

Today’s writing prompt was to write a poem about one (or more) simple thing(s) you love.

Here is my poem:
Sometimes you guys drive me crazy, make me see things kinda hazy.

Sometimes you guys make me say things I don’t want to say.

It’s a challenge and a struggle to maintain my thoughts when you all have something to say.

But do you know the simple thing’s I love and can see every day for free? It’s H one, two and three.

Today’s writing prompt is to write about a person who never (or rarely) asks questions. This got me thinking, and thinking and thinking. Who never ask questions? We all ask questions don’t we? I just asked two in a row right there! I took a bathroom break; I ate my lunch and still was coming up with nothing. I was beginning to get worried, thinking I would have to come up with another subject on my own today that is until I thought about Alex Trebek.

      Alex Trebek, the man on JEOPARDY!? Isn’t it his job to do nothing but ask questions?     

      Yes of course it’s Alex Trebek. Think about it, what is the premise of the game show? Alex Trebek reads to you the ANSWER and you are required to provide the QUESTION back to him. See he isn’t actually asking a question now is he? He takes some time during the beginning parts of the show to get to know the contestants better, but even then he hardly ever asks a question. He usually reads a quirky or strange fact about the person and they expound on it further. He will sometimes ask the question, “Tell us more about *fill in the blank*.” Other than that the man strictly sticks to reading answers, and this is his job!

      Alex Trebek is of course not the first host of the hit show JEOPARDY but he is the longest running host. He has been on the show since its latest reboot on September 10, 1984. He continues to host the daily game show and has been a staple in pop culture trivia for many decades.      

      To conclude, the man who never asks a question is Alex Trebek, or as I like to call him the man with all the answers.

So today’s (which was actually yesterday’s but is being posted a day late) writing prompt was to think of a time you completed a project. We’re your hands tired? Make your hands a character in your story.

So here it is, simply named Hands:

It took me all day!

The cutting, the measuring,the cutting again. The cursing when you miss, the anger when you hit something besides the nail. Is it worth it? Did I succeed?

“No!” My hands cry out to me. “We feel as if you treat us like sausages, good for nothing more than running through a grinder. Our joints feel as if they are in need of some oil. Our nails are as brittle as an eggshell.”

I beg with my hands to keep going forward. “I must build this thing. This wonderful thing that we all must have. We must finish our work, we must complete our task.”

“Why do you ask us for such a challenging request? We must stop now, we must forget this task and just rest.”

I beg one more time, I ask for just another few minutes. “As I told you before we all need things such as these for all things we need.”

“No! Never! We protest!”

“Watch yourself hands you know not what you say, we are together in this all of the days. Let me tell you a quick story, please continue to work I will hurry my tale and then we will leave and go rest.

See the tale it goes like this: One day a little boy named Jerry sat at the table. He was very hungry and did not want to wait for his mother to complete her cleaning before starting the supper. He concocted a plan, a wonderful idea for how he could get her to stop and do what he wanted instead. He grabbed a small stool and picked it up, because to drag it would bring to much attention to himself. He placed the stool at the base of the cupboard and climbed to the top. He couldn’t read so he just searched around until he recognized a label. He quickly popped it open and consumed the entire thing! Minutes latter his mother finished her cleaning and made her way to the cupboard. She opened the door and what did she find? Her son laying there dead. His mother kept a value size container of his daily vitamin on the back most corner of the top shelf. Jerry knew the vitamin’s label and knew they were his so he ate them all and died of an iron overload.”

“Are you saying we are acting like the boy by not being patient and allowing you to finish your project?”

“No, I just wanted to distract you while we finished. Let’s get out of here and grab a burger and a shake.”

I just joined a writing site to help me get more in the habit of writing every day. This site sends out daily writing prompts.

I started this last night.

I will post what I wrote last night an today later when I get home. Then hopefully post what I write every day after that.

Please leave comments!

Once it was totally done, all I had was one.
Once it was totally done, I turned to run.
Once it was totally done, I knew I truly won.