Well the year had finally come that St. Patricks Day fell on a day that smallest child was at her Mom’s for the holiday… I knew last year it was coming so I put in a little extra effort into the prank until the St. Patricks Day eve was upon us and we got a tearful call from that co-parent… She hadn’t realized how much smallest child was looking forward to it… smallest child could be heard in the background screaming “If there is no Leprechauns, then there is no Santa, no Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy… ” and so on… we thought she had reached the age of not believing and treated her accordingly… only to realize at the last moment that she might still need/want to believe… we figured it out when she was berating her Mom with lines such as “You are ruining my childhood!” … Soooo what is any stepmother supposed to do that has created this monster? I put in a quick call on the Leprechaun line… they managed to pull off a miracle… and her childhood was saved!
They tiptoed outside her Moms apartment… sneaking up to her car… as it was too late to get into the abode.
They busted into the car in a flurry of green glitter and shamrock confetti!
They left their wisely worded note…
And goodies for the wee lass… including her half sister… the wee-er lass
And that is the story of how St. Patricks Day was saved!
Tall Child was not forgotten in all of this… he was rewarded with gold coins of his own for his help in the Leprechaun Miracle
(You may want to visit our Leprechauns past visits… they are quite evil)
I have had people bemoan my Leprechaun Loyalty in the past… there was the one year a wee lass at school didn’t believe in my smalls Leprechauns
So we helped her build a trap (actually a house because she was afraid of hurting them) The Leprechauns broke into her house (They may have known where the key was hidden and played… quite messily in their kitchen and left some treats!)
And if that is a bit of the stretch from the original prompt I apologize … But you can’t talk about being tricked without a little Leprechaun story!
Image from WikiCommons, taken by Elia Biraschi and used under the Creative Commons Agreement
I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does. ~Jorge Luis Borges
After finding refuge under a tree… though it’s roots make my lawned mattress a lumpy bed… where I slept away the daylight hours… with one eye open… and my wrist twists through the handles of my satchel to avoid it being lifted… to the sound of someones small children playing on the playground littered with broken glass and sharps of all variety… Knowing that people stared… pitied… loathed me… crossed the way to avoid me… patrol cars counting the hours before they can tell me to move… I did move finally.
I pass the homes… still some windows lit even at this late hour… my mouth is dry… I have no water… my stomach is angry that I have no food… my skin crusted with a salty layer of dried perspiration… the summer heat is not too far off… but here in the night it has not found me yet… Soon it will hunt me and haunt me even in the night… though I just barely have recovered from the last attack… a bitter winter war hunt that many of my tribe elders did not survive…
My shoes are so thin that I feel each crevice in the walk way… each piece of gravel beneath the parchment thin sole between my foot and the road.
My legs ache and knees stiffen giving my walk a quirky swing that will soon cause my hips and lower back to beg me to rest…
There is no rest for me… No where to sit… So I continue to shuffle along both longing and fearing the suns return
At every bench… and every bowery… there is the mark against me… the unwelcome sign.
and so I walk.
This is a work of fiction.
I see this each night in my city.
Do not cross the street from them.
Do not lend to their belief that they do not matter.
There are many reasons why I love you… too many to share…
It’s not just for your handsome face… or sexy… floppy hair
It’s in the we found ourselves from what started as a sordid fling
and the way you make up the words when you’ve forgotten what to sing.
It’s how you tuck me in at night hoping that I will sleep
How you listen to my troubles… and are afraid of water too deep
It’s for your big broad shoulders and strong arms that hold me tight
It’s how you make me laugh no matter what… every single night
It’s the way you’re eyes disappear every time you smile
For all the fun and silliness that makes our lives worthwhile
It’s the way you love our children, and amuse them for hours
Playing knights and spies and dolls and building all the towers
The way in which you look at us with love… you love us to extremes
But most of all it’s for being you…the man of my dreams
So here is the thing… I know more people would read this if I talked about how he leaves paper towels everywhere… They would probably share it if I wrote cleverly about his bodily functions and when forgets the dishes he leaves soaking … but the truth is even though I laugh when I read other wives accounts of their husbands habits… I know I could never write a satirical post about him… He gets enough of it from TV… and other woman. I just love him.
Inspired by MamaKats World Famous Writing Prompts….
“Husbands. A post that hopefully will not get you in trouble.”