Suspiciously Quiet

be like mommy

Photo: Pinterest

 

The quiet lingered enough to have the mother lift her head from the small screen of the phone.

“Emma?” She inquired.

A longer silence returned no response.

She rose and walked toward the child’s bedroom. The three-year-old was outgrowing afternoon naps but sometimes still could be found slumbering amidst her toys.

The door was open. The girl’s room was empty. She peeked into the bathroom. Empty, too.

“Emma!?” Her voice rose. This time in alarm.

A faint shuffle came from the direction of the master bedroom. Nothing more.

“Emma, where are you?” She demanded.

“Here …” The extra pause and small voice held suspicious hesitation.

Urgency made the few steps feel oddly prolonged. The woman felt heartbeat pulse in the space between her tongue and throat. She pushed open the door …

The child’s cheeks were mascara blotches, her mouth and chin bloomed various shades of lipstick. She had a second set of eyebrows. Her little feet sported rose hues that merged into the floor. The room reeked from a cacophony of perfumes, nail polish, and something that smelled suspiciously like aftershave.

“Hi,” the little girl managed, guilty as they come. “I … I was getting pretty so it be your party.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Winsome Puddle

puddle play OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Irresistible

To poke a stick

In

Prepossessing

Pond of mud

There is little

More delightful

Than puddle frolic

To be had.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

In Particular

Little_girl_drawing_with_blue_pencil Daniel Foy

Photo: Daniel Foy

 

She is deliberate. She takes her time.

Each line is drawn with distinct goal. Each color chosen with remarkable concentration. Each curve labored on in exact determination.

After all, the letters aren’t ‘just’ a prelude to a word expressed. It is none of it ‘just’ idle practice …

It is her name she’s working on, a profound soul-expression.

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Cookie Riff

happy cookies AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

He shook his head

At jam and bread

Objected to any other

Kind of spread

And lectured mommy

From his seat

That cookie’s the only

Thing to eat.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Another Peek

peeking

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Knock-knock, who’s there, inside this hole?

Who dug a circle in the wall?

Does someone live inside this space?

Is it a little fairy’s place?

Knock-knock, who’s there? I want to know.

Will you come out before I go?

I’m sorry that I’ve come to peek

But oh, I do love hide-and-seek!

 

 

 

2nd helping of this week’s Photo Challenge

Educate

alma in class

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Any space

Will do

If you take time

To teach

Yourself

Your doll

Or anyone

Who will sit

Long enough

To listen …

But mostly

Yourself

Again,

Because what you

Choose

To replicate

Is what you teach

Today,

And what

Becomes

Your tomorrow.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Magnetized

alma sees pool

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Like fish to water she is drawn.

The sparkling blue calls,

Its promise

An irresistible

Invite.

She rushes,

Determinedly

Entranced.

 

Her mother after

Hurries,

Magnetized,

To stop

The captivated

Little one

Before she falls.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

In the Buff

 

He is an avid little streaker.

The first skills he had learned, a peanut little newborn, was how to shake off hats and kick off socks. These followed soon by talents for wriggling out of diapers, twisting out of bottoms, and shrugging off his tops.

He is a master of no-clothing.

An expert a-la-nude.

He chortles as you chase him.

He protests when he’s clothed.

He’s beaming when his skin meets air.

He’s glowing in the buff.

His mama is exasperated.

His da is not amused.

Grandpa laughs and names the child “Dote gan a stitch”

Grandma, “mo Stoirin (shore-een) Selkie.”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Cranky Monkey

 

CrankyPants Etsy.com

Photo: Etsy.com

 

 

He didn’t want to put on shoes. He didn’t want a sweater. He didn’t want to read a book. He didn’t like the weather.

He didn’t want to go outside. He didn’t want to play.

He didn’t want to take a walk. He didn’t want to stay.

He didn’t want to sit on lap. He didn’t want his chair. He didn’t want to play with blocks. He didn’t want his bear.

He never liked this yogurt. He never liked bananas. He never even wore this shirt. He hated these pajamas.

He didn’t want to take a bath. He hated Yellow Ducky. He didn’t want to wash his hands. The shampoo smelled yucky.

He didn’t like his bedroom. He didn’t like this bed.

He didn’t like this towel. The brush bothered his head.

A Cranky Monkey day to be

In Mama’s arms instead.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post