Every Twenty Four Years
When I was six, I got super fed up with my parents, with my life, with everything. I was mad as hell. I wasn’t going to take it anymore.
So I packed my favorite stuffed animals and sweaters into my Strawberry Shortcake suitcase, strapped on my roller skates and broke the news to my Mom….
…who promptly fixed me a sandwich, patted me on the ass and wished me good luck.
I don’t remember how long I stayed away. I remember finding a place to eat my sandwich and throwing myself a pity party.
Apparently, I go through this every twenty four years.
I’m planning an escape. Just for a few days.
Twenty four years later, I have a much nicer suitcase and a car in lieu of roller skates.
Also, there will be no pity party. Just some general hiding out, picture-taking and writing and maybe some wine drinking. Also, air conditioning.
Anyone wanna make me a sandwich and pat me on the ass? 
6 comments
*pat pat* Have a great escape, Cat.
How about a virtual sandwich? Want an ebook to go? I can do that.
email me, sweetie. Free is good and I’ll donate to the pity party.
writerjenleeland@yahoo.com
Jennifer Leeland recently posted..Welcome
Just found your scribblings, what a gluttonous feast of good writing.
I heart Cat.
I will make you a sammitch and smack ya on the ass whenever you need it.
Good luck escaping…and have a blast. I make a mean peanut butter and fluff ;-P
Jolene recently posted..“God always leads us to where we need to be- not where we want to be”
Consider the sandwich made and the ass-pat had.
Kim recently posted..Random Thoughts
Seems like you should be careful what you wish for with this crew, you just might get it! Enjoy your escape, you deserve it.
Have a good time… where are you disappearing to?
nuttycow recently posted..Dealing with the return
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