Daily Prompt; Earworm
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt
Write whatever you normally write about, and weave…
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt
Write whatever you normally write about, and weave in a book quote, film quote, or song lyric that’s been sticking with you this week.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us INSPIRATION.
It seems that this was the prompt just a short few weeks ago, but hey, what do I know. And maybe it was so good that DP decided to try it again. Or maybe I am supposed to learn something the second time ago.
This week I have been sitting in my rocker going bonkers on what I do wrong. I blame it on so many things. Not possibly believing that it could be me. It had to be some other reason that I knocked the sugar shaker off the stove. That just when Al wanted to be cleaned up from the supper table, I was scraping and scooping sugar before it ran too far down the crack between the stove and cupboard.
Looking over at Al and seeing the shit-eating grin on his face as I am cleaning up. I think that smile represented, nice to know I am not the only one who screws up. Alright Al, I will give you kudos on that thought.
Or how about the incident in the shower with Al and his walking steps. Me getting all paranoid wondering what that shower girl may be thinking. Alright, I will admit it. My mind can roam free as if living with the prairie dogs.
Why in the world did I become frightened? Crap happens right? Turds are dropped in our lap when we least expect it. We just wipe off and flush the crap and start over. Isn’t that what you all told me to do basically?
Just a sentence or two out of a stranger’s mouth can leave a nasty taste in our mouths.
I clung to the fact that if Al fell by accident again, I may lose him for being an unfit sister. I let it rule my roost and I ended up crowing like a big fat rooster first thing in the morning. I sounded ridiculous, I must admit, and I was over-reacting.
What I am doing is digesting all of the comments that were left to me. I am beginning to realize that I can never be a perfect anything, let alone a perfect sister. I know without a doubt I love my brother and he loves me. I know that I do the best to make sure he is as comfortable and happy as possible.
I now know that everything that happened was only because it was a Monday.
Garfield: Yeah, my loyal and fragrant subjects. Please, thank you. Briefly, I hate Mondays. I hate em. Therefore I decree, from this day forward, there will be no more Mondays.
Was there a special gift or toy you wanted as a child but never received? What was
I sat here for so long looking at the question. I even got up and went and did a couple of things pondering on how to answer this. I have never lied on here, and so I really don’t want to end this year with starting a bad habit.
The fact is, my parents always got me what I wanted. I am not going to say I was a spoiled brat like you may be thinking; I wasn’t. My parents must have instilled in me that we always had what we needed. I can remember way back to when I was a child, I asked for only one gift for Christmas or birthdays.
Today, children, and teens seem to have a list that is quite long of various items wanted. It was different when I was a child. Dad always said, we put clothes on your back, a roof over your head, and food in your mouth. What else could you want?
I think there was validity in that statement. He was teaching me that as parents, they were loving me and educating me, so anything else was desires. So getting that special doll or bike was a thrill. My dad knew a neighbor well enough that one year for Christmas I received a hand-made doll bed. It was very nice and could hold several baby dolls along with blankets.
Another year this same gentleman hand-made me a marble game. To look at this piece of puzzle was amazing. It had a hole at the top that you could place one or many marbles. The marbles traveled down at a zig zag speed and ended up in a box that held them in place, until you scooped them up in your little hands and started the whole process over again.
My brother and I played with the red marble game for years. I even passed it down to my own kids who also enjoyed it. A bag or marbles, what a cheap price to pay for hours of unlimited entertainment.
When I became a teenager, my parents bought me a radio to have in my own bedroom, and when I had a serious boyfriend, he bought me what was called back in the days, a receiver with two speakers. Great sounds, AM and FM stations. It was wonderful and I felt very special.
When it was time for me to drive on my own, my parents bought me my first car. A black 1961 Ford Falcon. It cost them one hundred dollars. It was small and a four door with an AM radio that I could crank up to my listening level. I drove it to work at my part-time job as a waitress. I put the gas in it and helped pay half of the auto insurance. I was a very proud young lady. I had my own set of wheels. I was not allowed to drive it for pleasure until I had proven that I was trustworthy. I could not drive it to school either.
Respect is what my parents gifted me with. Respect for the law, the work place, friendships, and for others. I should have been gifting them all of those years, instead of the other way around.
I had good parents. We squabbled but what families do not. I was trying to gain my independence, and they didn’t like it when I tried to go outside of the line. Today my parents are in heaven. So for the final statement of this Daily Prompt, I will just look up the heavens and say, great job Mom and Dad. You showed me you loved me by guiding me into this big world with patience, love and laughter.