It was a great plan, on the face of it

Made a quick WallyWorld run this afternoon. As I rushed towards the front with my booty (no, I mean the stuff in the basket–MUCH smaller), I heard a small voice ring out behind me.

“Hi, Mommy!”

It was a little girl, around six, all in pink and orange with floral sneakers and an armful of friendship bracelets. Skipping along behind me.

In front of me I suddenly noticed a woman. No, an IRATE woman. Imagine Dr. Evil with hemorrhoids. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” shrieked the harridan, gripping the basket handle.

The child skipped happily around me. “Looking for you! You got lost, Mommy.”

The mommy elevated three feet off the floor. “MOTHERS DO NOT get lost. CHILDREN get lost. They are forbidden to wander off, yet what do they DO?” She was visibly keeping her cool.

The child was still not fazed. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she sang in an unconcerned tone calculated to charm a rampaging Tasmanian Devil.

The mother now notices something. “WHERE IS RODNEY?!” She sounds on the edge of panic.

“He’s looking for you. In TOYS.”

I could hear the poor mother’s teeth gnashing. Yet she managed to keep her temper. She did not even ask why she would be in TOYS in the first place. “You are supposed to keep track of him.”

“I know where he is. Come on!” The child skipped down the main aisle, back towards the back of the store where the array of pre-pre-Christmas offerings lurked.

“Let’s find him FAST and then we need to talk,” said the mother in a defeated tone as she hurried to catch up.

I would bet the kids drew straws to see who would “go find Mommy” and who could browse the dinosaur replica aisle a while longer. Parenting sure has gotten more difficult now that we are enlightened. My dad . . . well, let’s just say he would have given US a free trip into the future by knocking us into the middle of next week. He would be in jail these days. I just giggled and thought how much fun it might be to get a do-over nowadays, when you can have video games and an iPod and a laptop when you’re eight! *grin*


If you can’t afford to feed a REAL steer, here’s an alternative!

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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