hooray for you writers who've posted your stories - i love reading what you've written! glad to see some poets among us. and none of us would be writers without readers, so many thanks to the folks out there who take a few minutes out of the day to read my posts and the stories submitted in the comments section. write on! and read on, friends.
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today's photo prompt speaks for itself. the photo credit goes to my husband scott (though i did put my own little spin on it with cropping and color). credit for the cool dishes goes to my brother and sister-in-law who hosted us on our vacation last week! here's my word spin on the photo:
I gaze at him for the longest time, finally leaning over to smell his soft curls and kiss his sticky face over and again. These days his two-toothed smile and apple cheeks make me want to take bites and eat him up, something I tell him often. This makes him chortle even now, a throaty belly laugh so uninhibited and dappled with joy that tears puddle in my eyes. I wipe at them and yawn, and sip my coffee. In the waning hours of yesterday I baked this first birthday breakfast bread. No complaints though; i covet the solitude of late hours and the chance to sink my hands into gluey dough and knead at it, like a contented kitten, as long as possible before it begins to toughen. He's a honey bear, my Noah, and so today is for sweet treats. No holds barred, cavities schmavities, today is about the sugar. For breakfast, this double chocolate braided bread with juicy berries - of the straw, rasp, and blue varieties. More fruit, and honeyed greek yogurt for lunch. After his best dinner, buttered egg noodles and broccoli, we'll eat good old-fashioned cupcakes, decorated like bumblebees - with yellow frosting and chocolate Twizzlers - and tubby scoops of neapolitan ice cream (or Napolean as his big brother likes to say). Sharing with neighbors big and small will sweeten the treat even more. And though my plate is empty - because Noah still thinks that food tastes better stolen by the chubby little fistful off of Mama's plate - my cup really is overflowing.
I gaze at him for the longest time, finally leaning over to smell his soft curls and kiss his sticky face over and again. These days his two-toothed smile and apple cheeks make me want to take bites and eat him up, something I tell him often. This makes him chortle even now, a throaty belly laugh so uninhibited and dappled with joy that tears puddle in my eyes. I wipe at them and yawn, and sip my coffee. In the waning hours of yesterday I baked this first birthday breakfast bread. No complaints though; i covet the solitude of late hours and the chance to sink my hands into gluey dough and knead at it, like a contented kitten, as long as possible before it begins to toughen. He's a honey bear, my Noah, and so today is for sweet treats. No holds barred, cavities schmavities, today is about the sugar. For breakfast, this double chocolate braided bread with juicy berries - of the straw, rasp, and blue varieties. More fruit, and honeyed greek yogurt for lunch. After his best dinner, buttered egg noodles and broccoli, we'll eat good old-fashioned cupcakes, decorated like bumblebees - with yellow frosting and chocolate Twizzlers - and tubby scoops of neapolitan ice cream (or Napolean as his big brother likes to say). Sharing with neighbors big and small will sweeten the treat even more. And though my plate is empty - because Noah still thinks that food tastes better stolen by the chubby little fistful off of Mama's plate - my cup really is overflowing.
how about you? take us (your readers... isn't that a wonderful phrase?!?) to the world created by your mind as you look at the photo. 200(ish) words or less. just click on comments and we'll be glad to follow.
