Writing 101, Day Seven – Give and Take

Conversations on the way to school can range from silly to serious. This is one I will never forget.

“Mom, when I grow up, I’m going to marry you.”

“You are?” I said. A smile dancing at the corner of my mouth.

“Yes, I am, and I’m going to buy you a house, and I’ll protect you.” My little man, so young, and sweet. His earnest face turned up to mine.

“You won’t want to marry me when you’re older. Trust me. ” I said.

“Yes, I will.”

“What about Daddy?”

“Daddy can be married to you, too.”

“Why don’t we wait until you grow up, a lot can happen before then. Okay?”

“Okay.” He says, and suddenly the look on his face changes.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”


“Blue, who?”

“Blue truck!” He bursts out laughing at his clever joke. His laughter is contagious, and I can’t help myself. We laugh like loons.

“Knock, knock.” He’s on a roll, but I point out that he needs to go. The bell will ring soon, and I don’t want him  late for class.

My Little Man

“Give me hug.” I bend down to wrap my arms around my son. He will make a fine man one day.

“I love you, mom!” He gives me a kiss and turns to run off. He is almost out of sight when he stops, turns around and waves. And then he’s gone.

I tell myself I won’t forget this moment when a son shared the promises of his heart.

This little boy only lives in my memory now, long ago replaced by a man. Every now and then I see traces of the boy in the man, and I’m wistful for a time when I could hold him on my lap and feel the warmth of his tiny hands around my neck.

Over the years, he has made many promises to take care of me, but only that once did he want to marry me.


Writing 101, Day Six – A Character-Building Study

She is undeniable. Her presence is larger than life, and she works with determination to get what she wants. Like a bull, she plows through a crowd to get to her destination. Her behavior is downright rude, but few seem offended.

Her eyes are warm and friendly, pools of melted milk chocolate. When she looks at me, I feel her looking into my soul and the goodness she sees there reflects in her eyes. There is love, forgiveness and acceptance in those warm, dark orbs.

A touchy-feely sort, she seems oblivious to boundaries, and surprisingly, strangers enjoy her friendly, gregarious nature. Often impatient, she barks orders, pacing as she waits to get going. Life is short and she wants to pack in as much living as possible.

There are times when she gets on my nerves, and I let her know how I feel, bu I almost always regret it. She becomes quiet and the hurt in her eyes breaks my heart. Those beautiful, soulful eyes looking out from the depths of sadness. I want more than anything to cheer her up.

She is family to me, my dearest friend and companion. Her name is Missy and she is my dog.



It’s Funny Now, but It wasn’t Then


Foot in Mouth
There are moments in everyone’s life when we try to connect with someone else by making comments we instantly regret. Some of us do this more than others. I thought I would share a few of mine.


1. Asking a woman when her baby is due, when she’s not pregnant

Me: When is your baby due?

Woman: You. think. I’m. pregnant?

Me: Ah, no I…

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t think she looked fat, she had this cute little baby bump, but then I decided that this was a good time for me to stop talking.

Can I have a do-over?

2. Thinking someone’s observation is crazy when it’s actually correct

Me: You’re not going to believe this, my mom thinks you have false teeth!! Followed by shrieks of laughter.

My friend: I do.

Me: What?!

Not cool. Do-over, please!

3. Making your own observations about your boss and the office manager and then feeling the need to share it with him.

Me: I know you two are having an affair!!

Me thinking: Oh, no! Did I just say that out loud?

Boss: Let’s talk.

Me thinking: I’m so dead. I don’t ever want to talk again.

I should point out that this was the office Christmas party, I was on an antidepressant and drunk like everyone else, including my boss who wore my lipstick.

Worst staff party, ever. The following Christmas party I was very quiet, and the Christmas party after that, I was no longer working there.

I still want a do-over for that one.

4. Saying something completely outrageous because it couldn’t possibly be true

On my way to Tim Horton’s for my morning coffee, and my neighbour calls out so, I bring him a coffee and we chat.

Me: Is everything okay with you? You seem a little down.

Him: I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life.

Me: Well, how bad can it be, it’s not like you killed anyone!

Him: I did… I was 20…it was an accident.

Me: Oh…um…well…I…


I want to believe that this will never, ever happen again, but it will. And I’ll be struck speechless, wearing a look of horror, mumbling my apologies and wishing for a do-over.

Writing 101, Day Five – Be Brief

The third grade classroom was a beehive of activity, as children waited for their teacher, Miss Carruthers, to enter the room. Some children sat talking quietly and others goofed around waiting until the last possible moment to sit down.

Miss Carruthers stood in the doorway, surveying the class when she spotted a note on the floor. A day didn’t go by without a crisis of some sort over lost papers, barrettes, pencil crayons or snacks. Finding it first made life easier later on.

Sad school girlOpening the note, Miss Carruthers walked to Jenny’s desk.

“Jenny, is everything OK?” Miss Carruthers gently asked.

Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Miss Carruthers, “my mom is mad at me.”

Miss Carruthers smiled softly at the sweet, brown-haired child and quietly said, “You dropped this, I think you should read it.”

Jenny reached out, took the note and slowly opened it. Reading it to herself, tears rolling down her face, she turned to Miss Carruthers.

“My mom is sorry, and she loves me!” Jenny smiled as she wiped her tears.

Miss Carruthers patted Jenny on the shoulder and walked to the front of the class.

Another day has begun.


Why do poop bags smell like vanilla?

Dog poop bags Vanilla is a scent associated with baking, ice cream, and scented candles. So, it makes sense that given the choice, the average dog walker will choose the smell of vanilla over poop every time.

Here’s the problem. The vanilla scent doesn’t cut the odour, but merely masks it. So when I scoop all I can smell is vanilla-scented poop. Frankly, those are not two scents I want to smell at the same time.

If I could say anything to the makers of Tuff Guy Poopy Sacs, it would be this, “Please cut it out. I’m gagging over here.”

I may never bake again.