That is today's writing prompt: oops.
And, by the way, just want to mention how exciting it is to read everyone's responses. I'm a little awed by the quality of the responses of young writers, delighting in all their rich characterizations, among other things.
It was supposed to be a surprise. A pleasant surprise, I mean. My husband had been going from crisis to crisis at work, doing a job that was big enough for a full four men. He hadn't had any time for regular maintenance around the house. Much less for detailing Sir Red -- his truck, so named by me when he rode up in it like a knight in shining armor and swept me off my feet.
ReplyDeleteAnd Sir Red needed detailing. Forget that. Sir Red needed cleaning. With a shovel. We'd taken him on a family vacation and the kids had been crammed into the backseat for 1000 miles. All four of them. Thank goodness we'd accidentally left one of them at a rest stop just before the police pulled us over for speeding, or we might have been dinged for, what, a couple hundred dollars for having more kids in the back than seatbelts.
Of course, if we hadn't left Johnny at the rest stop, we wouldn't have been speeding back there to get him, so I'll just take back that thank goodness.
Anyway, Sir Red was a mess. Back seat covered in popcorn. Spilled DQ blizzard petrifying in the rear cup holder. Books, sweaters, papers, even some unrecognizables all trampled on the floor. And Hubby had not time to deal with it. So I gathered the troops and promised consequences for the choice to help or not. With loss of precious items (including 2 iPods and a Gameboy) on one side, versus a trip to DQ for blizzards (that would be consumed in store) on the other, I had a willing workforce that cleaned out the back seat in less than 30 minutes.
But the smell remained. So I decided to detail. Picked up a Rug Doctor from the hardware store and sundry cleaners and went to work myself.
When the Rug Doctor was done, I cranked up Audible on my iPod and lost myself in the world of The Wheel of Time.
I guess I should have been paying closer attention. I guess I shouldn't have parked on a hill. I guess I should have left the truck in gear and not just relied on the emergency brake.
I didn't. Instead, I accidentally kicked and released the emergency brake when I was climbing over to the passenger's side of the front seat. And we started to roll. In the panic of the moment, I bailed out the door. Didn't even think to just put my foot on the brake.
Good thing it was our shed, not the neighbour's, that stopped the truck.
I think when my Hubby gets home, I'll have some Brad Paisley playing -- Little Moments.
Sally jumped out of bed, put her clothes on, and ran downstairs. Then she saw the new fish tank Dad had bought yesterday. Mom had told her not to touch it, so she just watched.
ReplyDeleteThe fish swam and swam and swam and swam and swam.
After a while, it got boring, so she went to get some breakfast. The fish looked hungry so she stuck a piece of cereal in there and the fish ate the cereal... and her hand.
Oops.
Then the fish finished her up.
The moral of the story is, don't buy fish.
“Oops!”
ReplyDeleteMary turned in alarm at the exclamation... and was met with exactly the scene she had feared. Nail polish, all over the plush carpet and the little girl's hands.
She rushed forward and picked up the bottle, still pouring its ruby terror onto the floor. “Kitty! What have you done? You promised you'd stay on the newspaper! What will your parents say?” Mary's mind was racing. What would the Jacksons do when they saw it? She could be sure she wouldn't be their babysitter much longer.
Kitty's face crumpled and her eyes welled with tears. “It was an accident!”
“It's okay, Kitty,” Mary soothed, patting the child's head absently. “We're going to figure out how to fix this. Do you know where the computer is?”
“Yes.”
“Take me to it.”
Kitty hopped up, holding her hands out in front of her, and led Mary into the office. Mary slid into the chair. “Now go wash off your hands, Kitty, use lots of soap.”
She nodded and fled the room. Mary swivelled back around to the computer.
Several computer clicks later the screen was filled with solutions. She walked into the kitchen and dug the baking soda out of the cupboard, then returned to the living room, sparks of hope beginning to flicker in her mind, and froze at the sound of the garage door opening.
“Kitty!” she hollered. “Get in here!”
Tiny feet pattered on the ground and Kitty darted into the room. “What?”
“Your mom is home.” Mary struggled to keep her breathing steady. “She is not going to be-”
The door behind her opened and she turned slowly to face Mrs. Jackson's horrified face.