Showing posts with label fighting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fighting. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Vent Your Frustration


Yvonne smashed the meat cleaver over and over into the cake. The banging merged with her screams and reverberated throughout the kitchen. 

She couldn’t believe her husband had missed his own birthday party. A party they had been planning for two months. A party he was fully aware of, not one that was a surprise, which might have made the whole situation more understandable. 

And what caused him to miss the party? Not work or a medical emergency. No, he missed the party she had slaved over for a damn golf game.

“What the hell are you doing?” her husband asked from the doorway.

“It’s either the cake or your head, Clarence,” Yvonne answered. She turned toward him, cleaver raised and dripping icing, and asked, “Which will it be?”

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Choices

Long time no see! Sorry I haven't been updating the blog regularly. I'm going to try to get back to it. Here is my contribution for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. Hope y'all like it.


Maggie was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Every second that went by, her grip lessened that much more.

She had stepped outside, hoping they would leave her alone. She should have known better. They just followed her. They were relentless.

She had to hand it to them, when they wanted something they didn’t stop until they got it. Even though she admired the trait when they employed it with others, when they turned on her, she could scream. Sometimes she did scream.

Today, she’d had about all she could take. When she removed her hands from her ears, she clinched her teeth at the noise.

“Stop!”

“OW! Mom, Stanley hit me!”

“Quit crying, you little baby.”

“If you throw that rock you’ll be sorry.”

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?”

Throwing her hands up in the air, Maggie yelled, “Shut up!” Once assured she had their attention, she told them, “You have two choices. You can quit the fighting, shake hands and play nice, or I can get a hickory switch and tan your backsides.” She let it sink in, praying they wouldn’t call her bluff, before asking, “Which do you prefer?”

It was all she could do to keep from laughing when both children looked at her like she’d grown horns. They not only shook hands, but also gave each other a big hug, all the while promising to be good from now on.