Bad Baking Day

He put his little hand on the baking tray. “Ouch!” His mother took him to the sink for a splash of cold water. “I told you that they’re still hot,” she scolded. The innocently greedy boy started to cry. She felt horrible and tried to pacify him with a hug. He continued to cry. She handed him a glass of water. He sipped before he sobbed again. The mother felt like she would go insane if he didn’t stop. She handed him a piece of brownie that wasn’t so hot anymore. He didn’t want it. “I thought you were making mini cheesecakes,” he cried.

Different Tastes

He wanted butter. She wanted cheese spread. He liked his coffee full of pearly white sugar cubes. She preferred the blackest of teas. Today, they wanted to try new things. He had what she liked and she had what he had been having since he was a college kid. “Eek!” He missed the sweetness of his breakfast. “How do you manage to digest this every day!” She gulped down orange juice. The waitress saved the day when she shoved two menu cards between them.

Where is Mommy?

His curious eyes were looking for her. He saw the stockings and the tree. But where was she? “Let’s have some fruit cake,” ordered his big sister. She pulled him to the dining table. “Where is Mommy?” She answered him with a piece of cake. He chewed and wondered. Excitement struck when the lights turned off and Santa Claus walked in. “Mommy won’t get to meet Santa,” he cried. Santa’s big, fake belly started shaking with very mommy-like laughter.

My Story

“Let me cry,” she said. Every thought resulted in a shot of pain. Tears and moans filled the room as she let her heart bleed. “You can’t do anything now,” said the other woman.  She let out the last sobs and pushed her chin up. “Where are you going?” The other asked with surprise. “I want to save the world,” she said, ready to face evil once again.