Scintilla Project – The Buddy System

Well after a good run, I am sporadic, but I will not waste a perfectly good and inspiring prompt!

FRIDAY, 22ND MARCH
A: Sometimes we wish that we could hit the rewind button. Talk about an experience that you would do over if you could.
B: Write about spending time with a baby/child under age 2. If you’re a parent, do NOT write about your own child.

I JUST make it to the age threshold for this one.

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It was the weekend of his 2nd birthday. A big moment for kids, and a point of worrying for parents, as it means the Terrible Twos are like dark clouds on the horizon.

We are not related, but we relate to each other well. Or maybe it’s that I use him as an excuse to play with Hot Wheels, and draw in chalk on the driveway (which is perfect for drawing roads and stuff for the Hot Wheels. Yes I use that college education to the fullest).

He wasn’t feeling well at all for his birthday, and among his symptoms was conjunctivitis in one of his eyes. That meant eye drops were needed several times a day, and apparently they burned (you know how medicine is sometimes worse than the illness). His mom admitted that she was having trouble getting him to sit still – I mean really what kid would stay put for that?! So I volunteered to help keep him calm and still for the next dose.

“Ok so let’s do it now- he’s due for the next ones.”

Wow, volunteer for duty and they put you right in the battlefield huh?

Sure he was only two, but that is enough life experience to know that even if it’s your birthday, when adults start heading to you, it’s not for a hug fest. He toddles away, we snatch him up and bring him to the couch. After trying to make him comfortable and not feel constricted, some wayward flailing arms and legs called for desperate measures. I shifted over and pinned his arms down with my elbows, and cradling his chin and forehead, attempted to get his head steady and eye open.

By now he knew it was inevitable and with nothing to lose, he channeled the Superman strength kids seem to have, in several ways.

First, by bucking like a steer.

Second, by shutting his eyes as tight as a drum.

He saved the best for last- the lungs.

So there I was, pinning down a 2 year old, pulling his eye open and having his little purple face (like a California Raisin) bellowing at the top of his lungs at a volume that made my eardrums compress.

Oh and that was BEFORE the drops went in.

*drop drop*

Even at that previous volume, he was apparently holding back. Yow.

So the meds were in, coating the eye, the worst of it was over. I relaxed my grip, fully expecting a vicious uppercut for my efforts. At the very least I thought he would hate me forever.

He opened his eyes still sobbing, and reached for me. I scooped him up and he embraced me, sobbing on my neck as I soothed him for a moment. All was forgiven, and we were still friends.

So this is what being a parent might be like?

Hmmm.

Ok, I could do this.

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Trifecta 47

On to this week’s prompt, which is again inspired by the upcoming dark holiday. This time, though, we’re giving you a lot more room for interpretation. Please remember to use the third definition, which, in this case, is fairly specific.

BLACK
3: dressed in black

33-333 words.

Well this is part of a larger assignment, it seems. It started with this post, which was done by request, then some of you* expanded that to include Death for a Trifecta challenge. Well I missed one of them, but this week well, read and see.

*yes those are three different links. Click all the blogs!

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Pat Porquepene was a prick. Everyone who had any dealings with him learned that firsthand, and liked to say “Pun Intended,” when labeling him as such.

Still, he was a hell of an operative. One of the few of his species that could actually shoot his quills (with point blank precision, no less), his come-on to any female that had a hint of rodentia in her blood, that some of his quills were poisoned, gave an extra whiff of danger to his overactive pheromones.

His latest assignment took him to Comoniwanalaya Island, where the climate and culture put any species into heat the moment they flew, or swam, in. He sat by his cabana, nibbling tobacco bark and staking out Count Skunkula, ruler of Rainbodia, a once prosperous nation whose namesake rainbows only appeared on the oil slicks from his many unregulated factories. Skunkula’s secretary, Wilda Beest, was two cabins down, sunning her ample frame. Pat had ordered room service to deliver a bale of Avalonian hay for her, to which she had returned a come- hither glance that made him shiver. The hazards of this job…

Suddenly, a figure sat next to Pat. Glancing over casually, he noticed the figure covered in black robes, giving no hint to his features. They sent a partner? I work alone… then again I can pass Wilda on him…

“No, she can’t see me Pat. Right now, only you can…” the figure answered.

“Who sent you?” Pat asked, his cool tone beginning to fail.

“The Fates. I got your assignment, and what a location to do it! We get expense accounts too, and this won’t even count towards my vacation time! Tell you what, I’ll let you know right before you buy it.”

“Are you…”

“Yep, Death. Inbonate. You see that sniper? Exactly. “The irony is Skunkula didn’t arrange this. Apparently you’re a real prick to many people. At least you won’t have to… you know,” Death gestured to Wilda.

“True.”

“Oh, and Pat? Pun intended.”

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Better Late Than Never 2: The Odds of Survival Are…

Continuing the BLTN series, here is another Trifecta prompt that I missed out on during the July 4th weekend. It was something almost tailor-made for Zombie Bunnies, but our heros and villains might have a little more time than that before the wascaly wabbits take over completely.

So I went with a little nerd humor. Ok a lot. (Yes as opposed to the high literature of ZB)

For the weekend challenge, we’re playing the ambiguity card again and leaving interpretation up to you. Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

The world will end in three days.

Meh, I ignored the word limit, since it doesn’t matter at this point, right? Enjoy!

* * *

“Well,” Peter commiserated, as they watched the news of the world’s impending demise, “at least we’re getting more notice than the people on Alderaan.” He and his friends were sitting in a bar they found called ‘Moss & Ivy’. The name was so familiar, it was pointless for them to resist going in.

“Or the Death Stars, particularly the first one,” Kelly added. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Hey even Earth, in the Hitchhiker Series!” Christopher pointed out.

“I don’t think that counts,” Kelly argued, as she sipped from her glass. “They were notified months before, they just never filled out the paperwork.”

“Oh give me a friggin break, we…I mean they, didn’t have space travel abilities to get TO the forms. They didn’t even know about the construction. So they WERE notified last minute.”

As they began to debate their points more animatedly, the bartender stomped over to them, irate. “Listen nerds, the other customers are getting annoyed at your stupid conversations. And no,” he remarked as Peter held up his empty glass, “I’m not making any more of those ‘blue milks’. This is a bar, not your parents’ basement.”

The trio knew they should get out before the sabers started flying. They had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to influence these weak minded people anyway (a notion that made Kelly reconsider her level of Force premonition skills). They got up to leave, pulling their robes on, hoods up so they wouldn’t have to make eye contact.

“Go back home, we don’t need your ComiCon dollars!” one patron berated as they left, the front door shutting out the rest of the taunts.

“I knew it would just be a wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Christopher gloated as they headed down the street.

“Who needs these nerf herders anyway,” Kelly grumbled. “Let’s just go home and put on the original trilogy.”

“Blu-ray?” Peter asked warily. “I know you bought that new box set Christopher, you know, with the pink sabers and blinking Ewoks. Laserbrain.” Feeling irritated (especially since he would likely never sell that stupid set), Christopher gestured to Peter with his thumb and index finger almost touching, while Peter fussed with his lightsaber replica (purple blade for Mace Windu; Peter preferred the Vaapad fighting style), which was snagged on his belt.

Kelly interrupted their argument. “No, I have the VHS tapes, HSF* edition. These don’t even have those stupid interviews beforehand.”

The other two looked at each other and nodded, forgoing their rivalry. Together they headed home, each wondering if the story of Earth would be retold many, many years from then, somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy, and thankful that Jar Jar Binks wouldn’t be a character in theirtale.

*Bonus to anyone who gets this reference.