Some People Should Never Eat in the Car!

We had a long drive ahead of us and no time to stop, so we got food to go. Bob ate his. Michael ate his. I wore mine. (Some people should never be allowed to eat in the car, and I am one of them!) As soon as I realized I'd dribbled and dropped on my top, I got out at the next stop and washed my shirt in the bathroom sink. (I hate those wavy-hand faucets! I never know exactly where to wave to make them turn on! They make me feel like an ineffectual magician.) The soap was lusciously puffy, the water wonderfully warm, the shirt clean and WET!
So I stepped outside the store and caught the breeze. (Fortunately, I'd wore another shirt underneath.) It looked like I was holding a purple wind sock! Then Michael came along and lent a hand.
So when you've dribbled your ideas on paper and your manuscript looks messy, what are you going to do about it? You can throw your shirt away, but if you really like the shirt underneath, go ahead and clean it up. One of my writing class members has discovered that he hates re-writing. It's true that some spots may take more scrubbing than others, but most shirts (and stories) are worth saving. Are you going to save yours?
Now hop on over to SKYLEEFAIR.BLOGSPOT.COM to see what Anedra and the Fish Prince are doing in their fairy tale!

Sticky Coins

For some reason, my boys like fast food hamburgers. I'll admit there are times when getting them a dollar burger is more convenient than taking them home to fix food. On one occasion when I was talked into a spontaneous drive-through trip, I realized I didn't have my purse. A missing purse can jump-start your heart, especially after you've ordered the food.
What to do, what to do?
Fortunately, there were coins in the console. I had to pry them up because soda had spilled on them during an earlier car trip. We nearly lost our fingernails, but managed to pry up enough to cover the cost. After handing them over, I felt kind of bad to see the cashier struggling to separate the coins as she counted them.
But I got over it. I didn't have to cook, and the boys were happy.
Do you like fast food?

Coupon Togetherness

by Shirley Bahlmann
The printed word is magic. You can learn about anything in the world if you can read. My always hungry 14-year-old proved that point yesterday when he pulled a sheet of fast food coupons out of the trash, where his eat-at-home-loving dad had tossed them.
"Hey, Mom, let's go get some cinna-blobs," he said, pointed to a picture of a cinnamon roll that had been chopped to bits and stacked in a small plastic tray.
I think fast food is way over priced, but I went ahead and read the coupon. Well, whaddya know, buy one, get one free. I had errands to run, so I was fine with getting a snack if my 17-year-old would drive. He was happy to do so, and away we went.
When we got back home, all was well until my 8-year-old returned from playing at a friend's house and found the evidence: little boxes with smears of frosting in the corners.
"Hey," he asked, "where did these come from?"
I was cornered. Furtively, I admitted, "I bought them."
"I want some."
So I sent him on a clandestine mission on his bike with a pocketful of pennies and another coupon. His mission failed when he came home and reported that they were all out of cinna-blobs. "We can try again tomorrow," I told him to his frowny face.
So as soon as he got up this morning, he began chanting, "Go get food, go get food, go get food." Sleep had done nothing to fog his memory. I'd said we'd try again, so I slid my bare feet into a pair of flip flops and drove the few blocks to the fast food store, blinking at the girl through the little glass window. "Two cinna-blobs, please."
When we reached home, my 8-year-old hurried inside to share his bounty with his big brothers, regardless of the fact that they'd inhaled everything they'd gotten the day before.
Who would have guessed that coupons would bring our family closer together? Besides that, I didn't have to cook breakfast. It was a good morning after all.