Fiction Guest Post By #5.

I have a special treat today. #5 has agreed to do a guest post.

Me: I have a favor to ask you.

#5: What?

Me: Will you do a guest post on my blog?

#5: Mmm. Maybe. How much work do I have to do?

Me: Nothing. You did it already {I held up the story he had written}. You just have to say yes.

#5: Okay. Can I play on your iPad?

It’s a good story. Thrills, suspense, danger, bacon. Lots of monsters. We’re both quite proud of it.

On this day of giving thanks and counting blessings I always try to take a moment to remember maniacal and implicitly undead yet tasty breakfast meats . Enjoy!

Night of the Living Bacon
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One dark, dreary Halloween night, me Ethan, Hank, Brandon, Paton, and Chucky walked into a creepy haunted house in a cemetary with our candy. Giant black spiders were crawling everywhere. That completely explained why there was absolutely no girls there. A giant, greasy, delicious looking piece of bacon walked up and invited us in. We walked in terrified as a sharp, deadly blade shot out of the wall. I saved us all except for the bacon, because then I knew it was a trap. Grease was splurting out of the bacon.

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As a prize for saving us from them, they let me eat it. I devoured the bacon. Everyone was amazed by how fast I ate it. It was terrific bacon, and the best bacon I have ever tasted. I started to wonder who made all of the bacon. We tried to run for our lives, but the huge, scary door slammed closed with a quick squeak before we had a chance to get out. We all screamed louder than we have ever screamed before.

We tried as hard as we could to open the huge, scary door. We were trapped!

We friendly tip-toed up the creepy, broken stairs. The stairs broke even more and squeaked every time we took a step. When we finally got to the top of the stairs, we tumbled straight into a trap door. We tried to jump out but it was way too high. Another problem of getting out, is there were scary bats everywhere. Then, big army ants came out and tried to kill us! The army ants ate my pants, but luckily Chucky had an extra pair incase I wet myself, which also happened. We ran trembling. We stopped at the corner. They almost killed us when a big, blood sucking vampire swooped by and flew us back out. He told us “The evil bacon is finally fighting back, and they going to eat all of you and me. After that, they are going to take over the world. They are go also going to eat me too because they called me a trader!” I asked, “who makes the bacon?” He said, “An evil devil!” The bacon heard us talk and came out and chased us. We all screamed, and ran for dear life.

We bounced trough the scary house screaming the whole entire time. A big, spooky ghost came out of the wall, but we rushed right through his stomach and he disapeared. A big, bloody zombie jumped out of a coffin. I got a hold of Eathan and was about to eat him when I noticed an ax was on the wall, and I chopped the zombie’s bloody arm off. The zombie was completely bleeding. We sadly all lost all of our candy in the spooky, deadly haunted house. 

We almost got out, when we relized the evil, wanting victorious, deadly bacon was going to still take over the world and get their victory. So, we ripped out the sords and knives that we forgot about and used them agenst the bacon. We had the fight of our lives while stabbing, cutting, chopping and devouring all the bacon. The evil bacon sadly ate Paton and he was digested and never heared from again but the rest of us happily destroyed the evil and got out safe. We all had a party/funeral without a body. We all cheered for saving the world, but we were sad Paton got eaten. Luckly we were happy enough to wash the sadness away though.

The End.

Back cover: "Run for your cold, dead lives!"

Ummm. . .

Sometimes the kids will say things that deeply resonate with me:

#5: I really want to climb the walls. Can I climb the walls?

I totally get that. Often, I want to climb the walls. So I let him. I should clarify that by “walls” he means “doorframe”, which has handy grabby bits around the edges, plus leverage, especially when you’re very bendy and lightweight and about four feet tall.  When he comes to me and says this I let him “climb the walls” three times. He usually does two right away and then saves one for later, unless one of his sisters grabs him and pulls him down in the middle of a climb because they want to get into the refrigerator or else just torment him because really, if they wanted to get into the refrigerator they could just go through the other doorway.

If you’re ever at my house and you notice dirty footprints on the top of the doorway into the kitchen, this is why.

Sometimes the kids will say things and it makes me wonder what goes on in their heads:

#5: (explaining his graphing math homework to me, which involved solving a problem and then plotting the answer number and its opposite on a line) I don’t like to think of them as opposites. I prefer to refer to them as evil twins.

Oh yeah, positive, negative. Evil twins would totally make math more interesting. I wish I’d thought of it.

Then sometimes they say things that make me glad I don’t know what goes on in their heads. Or in their private time, behind closed doors.

#5: Do you think dogs’ hands taste better than their feet, like ours do?

Ummm. . .

Zombie Ninja

Why I Married Him, part two

The cemetery where we walk our pups has a lot of really fantastic trees. Right in front is a live oak that has suffered storm damage. The groundskeepers and the tree people worked together extensively in past seasons to try to save it and it appeared their efforts were paying off.

Then we got our freak snow storm.

Poor tree.

You can tell from this picture the reason we’re losing so many trees: none of the leaves have fallen yet; most haven’t even turned. We haven’t had to rake. Eight-plus inches of wet snow on top of that is bringing those suckers down.

I don’t have a “before” picture, but take my word that before Saturday night, the tree did not normally lay upon the gravestones.

I was taking these pictures and a guy passed walking his dog. He remarked on how dangerous the tree was, that at the moment of it splitting and falling it could have hurt someone.

We’re pretty aware of how dangerous falling trees are, considering how close #1 came to being hit on our front porch, considering that our neighbor was hit by one in his driveway.

I was snapping away, trying to figure how to reply to such an obvious comment without being a total dick to someone who surely must qualify as my neighbor. I needn’t have worried. My husband always has my back in situations like these.

Man: I mean, this is just so dangerous. It could have hit someone. Really, it could have killed someone!

CC: Luckily, they’re all already dead.