Want to know my writer’s block buster? As soon as I start cleaning I am hit with some sort of line or idea for what to write next. I blame this awesomeness on a childhood of daydreaming through my chores. I couldn’t’ do something as simple as raking the leaves off the lawn without imagining that it was some incredible feat that would win me an olympic medal. Or something like that.
Today’s post was inspired by this line that popped in to my head while I was scrubbing a dirty pan: “if she even looks at him with an ‘I’m aiming to be Libby’s new mommy’ look in her eyes, I swear I will set her hair on fire.” Crazy, I know. Its not actually included in this post, but without it, I would have nothing.
Nothing says school spirit or dedication to Jesus like three trays of double fudge brownies. Or at least that’s what Amber, my dad, my church and my school would have me believe. Which, honestly, probably means it not true. Whether or not I believed in the soul saving, spirit and money raising properties of baked goods was not the issue. Following through with my promise to Amber that I would bring the would put me back in good graces with Daddy who’d been distant since our meeting with Dr. Oh.
The lace hem of my skirt rubbed against the mosquito bite on my my calf, causing an itch that I didn’t dare try to reach now that I was Michelle’s car with the trays of brownies in my hands. As I stood there I pictured I would provide myself relief without dropping the brownies on the ground. Instead of using my hands I could press my hip into the side of the car while I balanced on one foot in my 2 inch pumps and lift the other foot to relieve the itch. The way it looked in my head smacked of easiness and balance. It would just require shifting my weight on to one foot, like we had practiced all week in Miss Johnson’s class. Even better, this didn’t require shifting my weight while moving. I pressed my hip into the side of the car and began to shift my weight when Michelle stepped over. m
“Stop that,” she said. My left foot hovered millimeters off the ground while I wiggled slightly on my right foot. “Stop that.” she repeated.
“I’ve got an itch.”
“Well, you’re going to drop the brownies,” she nodded to the trays in my hand as I lifted my foot an inch higher.
“No, I’ve got it,” I said, not placing my foot back on the ground.
“Suit yourself, but if you drop those Amber will never let you forget it.”
At the sound of Amber’s name, I handed Michelle the brownies and let my leg foot drop to regain my balance. With my first step, I wobbled in my heels and felt my knees buckle just as the ground came up to meet me. I caught myself and stood up straight before I could make intimate contact with the cement.
I did see. Balance and me were not officially on the outs, but it certainly was taking the weekend off. Lucky. If I could, I would have as well.