How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


Flash in the Pan – Delirious

“Stop!” This isn’t funny anymore.”

Hands no longer playful, jabbed and bruised. Tickletickletickle.

“Marco, stop.” Beth squirmed, face crimson, hair plastered to rippled forehead.

“Ah, Cara Mia. You like this before.”

“Enough.” She pushed, slapped and clawed. Tears drenched apple cheeks. “Can’t breathe.”

An abrupt knock propelled him backwards on the mattress. Beth wiggled away.

morgueFile free photos

morgueFile free photos

“What’s going on?”

“Door, she locked?”

“In my father’s house? You’re delirious.”

You—out—before I shoot.  You—cover yourself…”

~ * ~

This is the new Fall Quarter of Flash in the Pan. The theme is Disturbed.

The word limit for Delirious is 75 words. I used them all again.

Click: to check out the rules and how to join.


Love You to Pieces

Grandparents would be lying if they didn’t admit that even though they LOVE their grandkids to pieces, the OTHER best part of their visit with you is that they get to go home and sleep like your children all tucked into their beds—the sleep of knowing THEY are yours and you have full responsibility for them.

Remember the sleepless nights: the sore throats and fevers? Let’s not forget the diapers, the wet beds, the potty training days when our kids came along—the ones who are now the parents? Been there. Done that already when you were born! It’s one thing to step in and help out once in a while but where is it written that we’re automatically on call? Ya gotta live your life as as we lived ours: on your own two feet.

I always said I wasn’t going to be a built-in babysitter but I got sucked in when I looked at those sweet innocent faces, with their luminous eyes and satiny skin you ought to be able to buy in the nearest drugstore. Now it’s a slippery slope between getting to do what I’ve been gearing up for in my retirement and giving in yet again.  Stop trying to influence me by using my  grandkids like the proverbial  carrot.

Why should I feel guilty every time you’re in a fix? You say you don’t trust anyone else with them? Ah-huh. I’m retired now. I’m FREE to do as I please. FINALLY. I have a life. Yay. Do you HEAR me?

Knock, knock?

I can’t hear you. Didn’t you say that grandma is going a bit deaf?

Happiness is…

Mostly, it’s the little things that make me happy. At first look, they might seem small and meaningless but just wait till you get to be my age, you’ll appreciate them too. In the grand scheme of things, the smaller they seem, the greater the pleasure. Let you show you some of them—it’s not THAT funny!

  • finding the leftover chocolate when scavenging for a snack and not worrying how long it’s been there
  • finding my slippers in the middle of the night on the way to the can
  • finding I’ve pulled up the covers on the bed on the way to the bathroom so the bed’s nice and warm when I return. Yay.
  • not having to get up to the can more than once or twice a night. Burrrr.
  • the cat’s sleeping in and not waking me to feed him
  • sleeping past 6:00 AM
  • giving up on all those miracle creams that are NOT working their magic anymore
  • not forgetting to gas up before my trip so I won’t be stranded
  • finding my keys where I put them (in my purse)
  • finding my cell phone still has a charge
  • remembering my PIN number

If I could just remember where I’ve put my glasses, life would be almost perfect. Oh, by the way,  I can’t forget that my lip reading skills aren’t up to scratch yet so I have to keep asking my kids and grandkids to repeat the question…or is it the answer?