“How many times do I have to tell you to put your shoes away?” or, “How many times do have to tell you, don’t leave the door open, the dog’ll get out?”
I heard it every day, growing up. You’d think I’da learnt. But no.
Now, fifty years later, Mom’s gone and so’s the dog. With my shoes.
Prompted by the Daily Post with today’s word, Countless.
As much as I fear looking back at my former life, I look forward with alarm. The direction in which I travel is dark and inhumane. My course may lead to the end of the world as I know it. My only consolation is that I’m alone on the planet.
“Saga” is the word of the day at The Daily Post.
“You can only survive for twenty-four hours without a drink.”
“Nuh-uh! You’ll die in fif… I mean twelve.”
“Nuh-uh! My dad told me it was a whole day!”
“Wanna bet?”
“Sure!”
“Okay. Don’t have a drink for the rest of the day and see if you wake up tomorrow.”
“…I’m thirsty.”
“Me too. Let’s go to my place. My mom made Kool-Aid.”
Linda G. Hill 