Based on the true experience of my sister, Sarah. Circa 1982 or 1983 perhaps?
Point of View from Mom:
I remember going to McDonald's and eating prior to shoe shopping. Only some of the children needed shoes and the other children would wait in the car at the shoe store. We ate the meal without any difficulties at McDonald's and Sarah went to the bathroom, which I totally forgot. I told the children to get in the car, and I did not count noses. We drove across the highway to the shoe store. The children that needed shoes got out and the others were told to stay put; to NOT get out of the car. The shoe store had the glass front, so when I saw Sarah standing on the outside of the car I was mad. I went out and started to yell at her, until she said that I had forgotten her at McDonald's. Boy did I feel like Mommy Dearest. She was so little and had crossed a four lane highway all by herself. And that is a very busy highway, day or night. Someone was she watching over her even if I wasn't.
Point of View from Sarah:
I remember I went into the bathroom with somebody to wash my hands. I was the last one out and when I stepped outside, the van was driving out of the parking lot. EJ was in the back seat looking back at me. He even waved as I was running after the van screaming. I didn't really know how to get home exactly but I figured if I just went the way that the van was headed I would eventually make it home. I began walking. I was very scared. I knew it was getting darker and I didn't know how long it would take me to walk home. I remember passing Kmart. I heard some bikers coming up from behind me. My plan was that if they tried to grab me I would run across the Kmart parking lot and run inside and ask for help. I knew I was a fast runner and I hoped I was fast enough. They drove by without bothering me so I didn't have to worry about it. I kept walking and then I saw the van across the street. I knew it was ours because I had never seen any other red van with an airbrushed windsurfer on the side. The road was like a five lane highway. I waited and waited for an opening. Finally there was a break and I ran across the street. I began to get in the van and immediately I was getting yelled at. Everyone was mad that I got out of the van because Mom told everyone to stay in the van. They didn't realize I was left at McDonald's. I started to cry and I told them I was left behind. Then I believe it was Emma who took me inside to tell Mom. I was still very upset. Mom was very mad and then I got yelled at again because I should have stayed at the McDonald's instead of walking down the street. I felt like I couldn't get any pity anywhere.
The next day I went to school and started writing my story in my journal. Whenever we finished a journal we turned it in and then began in a new notebook. I only got to the part about Kmart when I ran out of room. I turned that journal in and then finished the story in my new book. My teacher had taken my finished notebook home with her to read a few entries. She said that she was in suspense all night wondering how the story played out. The next day she begged me to tell her the rest of the story.
I learned my lesson and I don't think I ever got left behind again, and if I did I knew to always stay in the last place my Mom saw me. My cousin Marvin told me a story about when my aunt and uncle once left one of them in Ohio. They were hours away when they realized it and had to go back. That made me feel a little better about my situation.
Point of View from the Van:
I am big and red and have a way cool vintage hippie windsurfer airbrushed on my side. Back in the day, I was quite a catch. Then a man bought me and took me home and introduced me to his wife and seven children. Seven! I knew right then my glory days were over and it was time to settle down and be a reliable van; this family needed me. New seats were installed, enough to hold all 9 passengers, and my new adventures consisted of following the speed limit and getting an array of unknown sticky substances in my carpet.
It didn't take long for me to get used to the drill. Mom up front, Emma calling shotgun, the other oldest two in the middle and all of the little ones in back. Well, one night, things became a little more adventurous than normal. It was that time of year; the time to fit half of this army for new school shoes. The kidlets piled in and off we went on a thirty minute drive into Dunlap.
First stop was McDonald's. The cargo of kids jumped up and down (as much as one can in a van) but I wasn't worried. I knew my shocks could handle it. Normally the mom would just parade me through the drive-thru and order the usual 7 cheeseburgers, 1 hamburger, and 8 waters. But not that night. Guess it must have been special as they parked me in the corner and ventured into the place of McHappy. It was sort of nice to take a breather... y'know... quiet time.
However, this mom was on a mission to get shoes, and therefore the break was short and sweet. Before I knew it kids were piling back in and it was time to get my motor revving. Wait a minute. Something wasn't right. My weights and balance sensors were telling me something was off. I might be getting old, I thought to myself, but I am pretty sure I arrived carrying just a smidge more weight than we were leaving with. Nevertheless, the mother put me in gear and we were off.
Within seconds, I could feel someone on my heels. My rear-view mirrors told me it was one of them; the 5th one to be exact. Oh she was my favorite too! The quiet one. She never spilled or jumped around, and always wore her seatbelt. She was running to catch up with us but the mom had no idea and had embarked on her shoe shopping mission with fury.
"Run, little one! Run!" I remember sputtering out. We turned onto the highway and as we made the venture across all lanes, her image shrank away from me. I was half-tempted to fake a stalling, but alas, we turned into the shoe store parking lot and came to a complete stop.
Several kidlets shuffled out and then there was yelling as the little one made it safely back inside. There were a few more moments of chaos, tears and confusion and finally -- calm.
She was safe and sound in her chair in the back; where I could make sure she got home safely that time.
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
School, Food, and Baptist White Lie Cake
I have been totally swamped with school this week. I promise I will catch up on reading all of your fantabulous bloggy happenings soon. My appearance has been spotty at best.
I am currently in search of a title for my Comm Class unit project on Non-Verbal Communication... "What You Can't Hear", "Between the Lines", "What Your Body Says About You"... I dunno. I guess I need some motivation. I got nothin'. I'd love to put "That's What She Said... or Not." But I reckon if some kid got suspended for saying that in some other state in some part of the country, it must be inappropriate on some level! hahaha!
In search of the much needed inspiration, I happened to glance over at a book of quotes on my night stand. What better way to get inspiration than from an inspirational book? I read through the little quotes on success... nothing struck me. I grabbed the new recipe book someone gave me, also on my night stand. But -- then I just got hungry.
Therefore, I leave you with a little inspiration AND food, not to mention a little humor.
The Baptist White Lie Cake
Have you ever told a white lie? You are going to love this, especially all of the ladies who bake for church events: Alice Grayson was to bake a cake for the Baptist Church Ladies' Group in Tuscaloosa , but forgot to do it until the last minute. She remembered it the morning of the bake sale and after rummaging through cabinets, found an angel food cake mix & quickly made it while drying her hair, dressing, and helping her son pack up for Scout camp.
When she took the cake from the oven, the center had dropped flat and the cake was horribly disfigured and she exclaimed, "Oh dear, there is not time to bake another cake!" This cake was important to Alice because she did so want to fit in at her new church, and in her new community of friends.
So, being inventive, she looked around the house for something to build up the center of The cake. She found it in the bathroom - a roll of toilet paper.
She plunked it in and then covered it with icing. Not only did the finished product look beautiful, it looked perfect. And, before she left the house to drop the cake by the church and head for work, Alice woke her daughter and gave her some money and specific instructions to be at the bake sale the moment it opened at 9:30 and to buy the cake and bring it home.
When the daughter arrived at the sale, she found the attractive, perfect cake had already been sold. Amanda grabbed her cell phone & called her mom.
Alice was horrified - she was beside herself! Everyone would know! What would they think? She would be ostracized, talked about, ridiculed!
All night, Alice lay awake in bed thinking about people pointing fingers at her and talking about her behind her back.
The next day, Alice promised herself she would try not to think about the cake and would attend the fancy luncheon/bridal shower at the home of a fellow church member and try to have a good time. She did not really want to attend because the hostess was a snob who more than once had looked down her nose at the fact that Alice was a single parent and not from the founding families of Tuscaloosa, but having already RSVP'd, she couldn't think of a believable excuse to stay home.
The meal was elegant, the company was definitely upper crust old south and to Alice's horror, the cake in question was presented for dessert!
Alice felt the blood drain from her body when she saw the cake! She started out of her chair to tell the hostess all about it, but before she could get to her feet, the Mayor's wife said, "what a beautiful cake!"
Alice, still stunned, sat back in her chair when she heard the hostess (who was a prominent church member) say, "Thank you, I baked it myself."
Alice smiled and thought to herself, "God is good."
I am currently in search of a title for my Comm Class unit project on Non-Verbal Communication... "What You Can't Hear", "Between the Lines", "What Your Body Says About You"... I dunno. I guess I need some motivation. I got nothin'. I'd love to put "That's What She Said... or Not." But I reckon if some kid got suspended for saying that in some other state in some part of the country, it must be inappropriate on some level! hahaha!
In search of the much needed inspiration, I happened to glance over at a book of quotes on my night stand. What better way to get inspiration than from an inspirational book? I read through the little quotes on success... nothing struck me. I grabbed the new recipe book someone gave me, also on my night stand. But -- then I just got hungry.
Therefore, I leave you with a little inspiration AND food, not to mention a little humor.
The Baptist White Lie Cake
Have you ever told a white lie? You are going to love this, especially all of the ladies who bake for church events: Alice Grayson was to bake a cake for the Baptist Church Ladies' Group in Tuscaloosa , but forgot to do it until the last minute. She remembered it the morning of the bake sale and after rummaging through cabinets, found an angel food cake mix & quickly made it while drying her hair, dressing, and helping her son pack up for Scout camp.
When she took the cake from the oven, the center had dropped flat and the cake was horribly disfigured and she exclaimed, "Oh dear, there is not time to bake another cake!" This cake was important to Alice because she did so want to fit in at her new church, and in her new community of friends.
So, being inventive, she looked around the house for something to build up the center of The cake. She found it in the bathroom - a roll of toilet paper.
She plunked it in and then covered it with icing. Not only did the finished product look beautiful, it looked perfect. And, before she left the house to drop the cake by the church and head for work, Alice woke her daughter and gave her some money and specific instructions to be at the bake sale the moment it opened at 9:30 and to buy the cake and bring it home.
When the daughter arrived at the sale, she found the attractive, perfect cake had already been sold. Amanda grabbed her cell phone & called her mom.
Alice was horrified - she was beside herself! Everyone would know! What would they think? She would be ostracized, talked about, ridiculed!
All night, Alice lay awake in bed thinking about people pointing fingers at her and talking about her behind her back.
The next day, Alice promised herself she would try not to think about the cake and would attend the fancy luncheon/bridal shower at the home of a fellow church member and try to have a good time. She did not really want to attend because the hostess was a snob who more than once had looked down her nose at the fact that Alice was a single parent and not from the founding families of Tuscaloosa, but having already RSVP'd, she couldn't think of a believable excuse to stay home.
The meal was elegant, the company was definitely upper crust old south and to Alice's horror, the cake in question was presented for dessert!
Alice felt the blood drain from her body when she saw the cake! She started out of her chair to tell the hostess all about it, but before she could get to her feet, the Mayor's wife said, "what a beautiful cake!"
Alice, still stunned, sat back in her chair when she heard the hostess (who was a prominent church member) say, "Thank you, I baked it myself."
Alice smiled and thought to herself, "God is good."
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
If You Give a Mom a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup
If you give a mom a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup, she may just ask for some salted "Movie Butter" popcorn to counteract the sweetness.
And if you give a mom some "Movie Butter", salty popcorn, she may just ask for an ice-cold Diet Coke from the can to wash it down.
And if you give a mom an ice-cold Diet Coke from a can, she may just want to sit in a comfy spot for a minute while she partakes of such delight.
And while you let a mom sit and relax for a minute, she may just get out her cell phone and start to catch up on funny texts or emails or blogs.
And while she is texting or catching up on funny emails, she may want a refill on her drink.
And if you give a mom a refill on her drink, she may find the urge to put her feet up.
And if you let a mom put her feet up, she may just ask you for a blanket.
If you give a mom a blanket, she may just ask you to turn out the lights.
If you turn out the lights, she may just suggest you put a movie in.
And if you put in a movie for a mom to watch, she may just fall asleep.
And if a mom falls asleep, she might just wake up an hour or two later ...
...and ask for a snack...
...like a Reece's Peanut Butter cup. ;)
And if you give a mom some "Movie Butter", salty popcorn, she may just ask for an ice-cold Diet Coke from the can to wash it down.
And if you give a mom an ice-cold Diet Coke from a can, she may just want to sit in a comfy spot for a minute while she partakes of such delight.
And while you let a mom sit and relax for a minute, she may just get out her cell phone and start to catch up on funny texts or emails or blogs.
And while she is texting or catching up on funny emails, she may want a refill on her drink.
And if you give a mom a refill on her drink, she may find the urge to put her feet up.
And if you let a mom put her feet up, she may just ask you for a blanket.
If you give a mom a blanket, she may just ask you to turn out the lights.
If you turn out the lights, she may just suggest you put a movie in.
And if you put in a movie for a mom to watch, she may just fall asleep.
And if a mom falls asleep, she might just wake up an hour or two later ...
...and ask for a snack...
...like a Reece's Peanut Butter cup. ;)
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
A Bloggy Fairy Tale of Sorts
Author's Note: You don't HAVE to do this... but it makes a much better story if you read it with a British accent... I'm just sayin'...
__________________________________
Once there was this FAB-U-LOUS princess named Princess Talks-A-Lot. She found herself at a time in her life in which she was not yet betrothed. Such a glorious rite had already been bestowed upon all of her beautiful Princess friends in the kingdom.
Princess Talks-A-Lot wanted to be married and live happily ever after like all of her friends and often dreamed of such a thing. She was warned by the King and others that perhaps it was her incessant chatter, unbridled humor, and somewhat unruly behavior that stood in the way of finding her destiny. The Queen admonished her to become more sweet and demure like those princesses that had gone before her.
Princess Talks-A-Lot felt within her heart that one day her Prince would come. However, 'twas not in her true form to sit around and wait for such matters to occur. Thus, Princess Talks-A-Lot decided to do whatever she could within her powers to increase her appeal to the eligible princes of the land.
She carefully took 100 strokes to her long locks each morning and each night to enhance the shine of the hairs which her head beheld. She consumed only foods and drink that were healthy and pleasing to the body. She held her chin and shoulders well with posture as she walked, keeping her stride within the bounds of her stature. She spoke warmly with those whom she knew and smiled at those with whom she did not. She held her tongue and used caution as not to over-speak as the King had previously suggested.
Though try as she might, Princess Talks-A-Lot continued through her days without so much as one likely suitor.
Princess Talks-A-Lot began to spend more time at the wishing well, eventually spilling more tears than wishes themselves.
Finally one blessed day a knock came upon the door. Princess Talks-A-Lot opened the door to find a wee little man with an over-sized head, two horns and a tail.
"Art thou a man or a beast?" inquired the princess.
"It mattereth not," replied the creature in a rather squeaky voice. "For either way I am yours."
And with that, the little troll puckered his lips in hopes of realizing his own shame-filled dreams. The princess was shocked and suddenly noticed that standing behind the little troll was a line of about twenty more trolls awaiting their chance to fulfill their own similar filthy dreams.
"What the Bloomin' Freak?" cried the princess.
"Well, don't get your knickers in a twist," cried the troll. "I heard about your wish and-"
"No!" the princess exclaimed, slamming the door.
The princess ran to her room, flung herself upon her bed amidst a million fluffy pillows and cried tears upon them until the tears would come no more. She then remembered the words of her Great-Great-Grand-Mama. "When life done give ya lemons, squeeze out everything ya can and then go find new ones, cuz those ones ain't no good no more." (Great-Great-Grand-Mama married into the family.)
Princess Talks-A-Lot knew then what she had to do. She picked herself up, dusted herself off, and approached her gigantic walk-in closet with determination and what little bit of pride she had left.
The princess took one look at herself in the full-length mirror and asked, "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, is it even worth trying at all?"
To which the mirror replied, "Not with those puffy eyes and smeared mascara! Good Grief, Woman! Have you gone mad?"
Princess Talks-A-Lot shed her princess attire and dug in the back of her wardrobe before finding the hunting ensemble worn by her Great-Great-Grand-Papa at the onset of Foxhunting season each year. Princess Talks-A-Lot then took her Great-Great-Grand-Papa's Vintage 12 Gauge (for protection from fire-breathing dragons, of course) and decided that she had to make her own destiny. She had to seek out, search for and seize her own prince.
Princess Talks-A-Lot decided that she couldn't care less about what the King said. She was a chatter-box and she was self-accepting of it. And if per chance some Prince would love her and care about her, then he wouldn't care less about her gregarious nature and in part even love her because of it; perhaps even be gobsmacked over it!
With that, Princess Talks-A-Lot set off on her journey to find her Prince so that together they could find out what comes after the "happily ever after" part. And she knew that it would not be easy. And she knew that patience would be hard to come by. And sadly, she even knew that it might never happen before the cock would crow and her human heart expire.
Nonetheless, she would never give up and she would probably never, ever stop talking.
The End.
COPYRIGHT 2009. EMMACMILLER.BLOGSPOT.COM. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.
__________________________________
Once there was this FAB-U-LOUS princess named Princess Talks-A-Lot. She found herself at a time in her life in which she was not yet betrothed. Such a glorious rite had already been bestowed upon all of her beautiful Princess friends in the kingdom.
Princess Talks-A-Lot wanted to be married and live happily ever after like all of her friends and often dreamed of such a thing. She was warned by the King and others that perhaps it was her incessant chatter, unbridled humor, and somewhat unruly behavior that stood in the way of finding her destiny. The Queen admonished her to become more sweet and demure like those princesses that had gone before her.
Princess Talks-A-Lot felt within her heart that one day her Prince would come. However, 'twas not in her true form to sit around and wait for such matters to occur. Thus, Princess Talks-A-Lot decided to do whatever she could within her powers to increase her appeal to the eligible princes of the land.
She carefully took 100 strokes to her long locks each morning and each night to enhance the shine of the hairs which her head beheld. She consumed only foods and drink that were healthy and pleasing to the body. She held her chin and shoulders well with posture as she walked, keeping her stride within the bounds of her stature. She spoke warmly with those whom she knew and smiled at those with whom she did not. She held her tongue and used caution as not to over-speak as the King had previously suggested.
Though try as she might, Princess Talks-A-Lot continued through her days without so much as one likely suitor.
Princess Talks-A-Lot began to spend more time at the wishing well, eventually spilling more tears than wishes themselves.
Finally one blessed day a knock came upon the door. Princess Talks-A-Lot opened the door to find a wee little man with an over-sized head, two horns and a tail.
"Art thou a man or a beast?" inquired the princess.
"It mattereth not," replied the creature in a rather squeaky voice. "For either way I am yours."
And with that, the little troll puckered his lips in hopes of realizing his own shame-filled dreams. The princess was shocked and suddenly noticed that standing behind the little troll was a line of about twenty more trolls awaiting their chance to fulfill their own similar filthy dreams.
"What the Bloomin' Freak?" cried the princess.
"Well, don't get your knickers in a twist," cried the troll. "I heard about your wish and-"
"No!" the princess exclaimed, slamming the door.
The princess ran to her room, flung herself upon her bed amidst a million fluffy pillows and cried tears upon them until the tears would come no more. She then remembered the words of her Great-Great-Grand-Mama. "When life done give ya lemons, squeeze out everything ya can and then go find new ones, cuz those ones ain't no good no more." (Great-Great-Grand-Mama married into the family.)
Princess Talks-A-Lot knew then what she had to do. She picked herself up, dusted herself off, and approached her gigantic walk-in closet with determination and what little bit of pride she had left.
The princess took one look at herself in the full-length mirror and asked, "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, is it even worth trying at all?"
To which the mirror replied, "Not with those puffy eyes and smeared mascara! Good Grief, Woman! Have you gone mad?"
Princess Talks-A-Lot shed her princess attire and dug in the back of her wardrobe before finding the hunting ensemble worn by her Great-Great-Grand-Papa at the onset of Foxhunting season each year. Princess Talks-A-Lot then took her Great-Great-Grand-Papa's Vintage 12 Gauge (for protection from fire-breathing dragons, of course) and decided that she had to make her own destiny. She had to seek out, search for and seize her own prince.
Princess Talks-A-Lot decided that she couldn't care less about what the King said. She was a chatter-box and she was self-accepting of it. And if per chance some Prince would love her and care about her, then he wouldn't care less about her gregarious nature and in part even love her because of it; perhaps even be gobsmacked over it!
With that, Princess Talks-A-Lot set off on her journey to find her Prince so that together they could find out what comes after the "happily ever after" part. And she knew that it would not be easy. And she knew that patience would be hard to come by. And sadly, she even knew that it might never happen before the cock would crow and her human heart expire.
Nonetheless, she would never give up and she would probably never, ever stop talking.
The End.
COPYRIGHT 2009. EMMACMILLER.BLOGSPOT.COM. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.
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