Post by rsafan on Sept 23, 2006 3:51:43 GMT -5
Prologue
"Get off the table! What am I always telling you?"
The four year old slid off the table, "Tables are made for glasses not arses. Sorry mommy, I forgot."
His bottom lip jutted out and his mother, who could never be angry at him for too long enveloped him in a hug. "That's okay, just remember next time okay? Now go watch tv with your sister, I'm busy and the family should start arriving any minute now."
Just then his six year old sister walked into the kitchen, "There's nothing on tv." she moaned as she dumped herself onto a kitchen chair. "I'm hungry."
"Well, you're just going to have to wait till everyone gets here because I'm busy." her mother turned back to the salad she'd been making. It was Sunday and there was supposed to be a BBQ at there house for lunch but so far, nearly the entire family had called to say they were running late.
Not having moved from her spot at the kitchen table, her daughter proclaimed barely five minutes later that she was bored.
"Well, go and find something to do. You have more than enough toys if there's nothing you like on tv." She really didn't need any of this, she was running late herself and her husband had yet to make an appearance.
"I wanna hear the story again."
"The story takes too long, you're going to have to find some other means of occupying yourself."
Her four year old, who had progressed to sitting on the kitchen cabinet reached for the cookie jar and asked, "What's occupy mean?"
"It means," she said, grabbing the cookie jar from him before he'd taken one, "that you have to keep yourself busy. And get off the counter, it's no better than sitting on the table."
Ignoring her he simply folded his legs under him and sat staring at her. As though the mere act would influence her to hand the cookie jar back, just as she motioned to take him off herself, her husband walked in. One look from him had her son scurrying off the counter and running to his father.
In an effort to make amends, and to dispel the look of displeasure directed at him, he decided to shift blame elsewhere, "Mommy won't tell us the story."
"Mommy's busy sport, maybe later." Placing his son in a chair opposite his sister, he went over to kiss his wife good morning. he thought he heard a "more like afternoon" comment, but chose to ignore it.
"I want to hear the story."
"I wanna hear the story."
Their children started demanding. With an exasperated sigh, his wife dropped the knife she'd been using to slice the tomatoes and turned around. Before she could even start the yelling, he put his hand on her shoulder, "Go tell them the story, I'll finish up here."
"Okay, both of you in the living room in the next two minutes or no story."
The speed at which the two of them flew out of the kitchen would've broken Olympic records for sprinting. "You know this story is going to take hours."
He picked up the knife she'd been using and ignoring her comment simply stated, "Your children are waiting for you."
In the living room, the children were sitting on the sofa. Quietly awaiting her arrival and the telling of the story they both loved so much. She sat down, hoping to give a summarized version but they both protested.
"You have to start it proper mom, with 'this isn't your average tale.'"
"Okay, okay. Are you two comfortable?"
They nodded. And she started her story.
"This isn't your average tale of fairies and frogs, princes and princesses. This isn't a story of everlasting love or never ending woe. This isn't a story of murder and suspense, nor is it one of cheer and hapiness. No, this is a story about life, about love and about family. There are no happy endings, in fact there are no endings at all. Because some people say, 'life is short' but this isn't true. In truth, life is the longest thing you'll ever do. So this is the story of knowing who you are, of loving and giving, even if it's only from afar. And as this is no average tale, it starts as no other would, with a simple journey made by a girl, who didn't realise how it would change her world. And as I begin this story remember, that it has no 'happily ever after'.
"Get off the table! What am I always telling you?"
The four year old slid off the table, "Tables are made for glasses not arses. Sorry mommy, I forgot."
His bottom lip jutted out and his mother, who could never be angry at him for too long enveloped him in a hug. "That's okay, just remember next time okay? Now go watch tv with your sister, I'm busy and the family should start arriving any minute now."
Just then his six year old sister walked into the kitchen, "There's nothing on tv." she moaned as she dumped herself onto a kitchen chair. "I'm hungry."
"Well, you're just going to have to wait till everyone gets here because I'm busy." her mother turned back to the salad she'd been making. It was Sunday and there was supposed to be a BBQ at there house for lunch but so far, nearly the entire family had called to say they were running late.
Not having moved from her spot at the kitchen table, her daughter proclaimed barely five minutes later that she was bored.
"Well, go and find something to do. You have more than enough toys if there's nothing you like on tv." She really didn't need any of this, she was running late herself and her husband had yet to make an appearance.
"I wanna hear the story again."
"The story takes too long, you're going to have to find some other means of occupying yourself."
Her four year old, who had progressed to sitting on the kitchen cabinet reached for the cookie jar and asked, "What's occupy mean?"
"It means," she said, grabbing the cookie jar from him before he'd taken one, "that you have to keep yourself busy. And get off the counter, it's no better than sitting on the table."
Ignoring her he simply folded his legs under him and sat staring at her. As though the mere act would influence her to hand the cookie jar back, just as she motioned to take him off herself, her husband walked in. One look from him had her son scurrying off the counter and running to his father.
In an effort to make amends, and to dispel the look of displeasure directed at him, he decided to shift blame elsewhere, "Mommy won't tell us the story."
"Mommy's busy sport, maybe later." Placing his son in a chair opposite his sister, he went over to kiss his wife good morning. he thought he heard a "more like afternoon" comment, but chose to ignore it.
"I want to hear the story."
"I wanna hear the story."
Their children started demanding. With an exasperated sigh, his wife dropped the knife she'd been using to slice the tomatoes and turned around. Before she could even start the yelling, he put his hand on her shoulder, "Go tell them the story, I'll finish up here."
"Okay, both of you in the living room in the next two minutes or no story."
The speed at which the two of them flew out of the kitchen would've broken Olympic records for sprinting. "You know this story is going to take hours."
He picked up the knife she'd been using and ignoring her comment simply stated, "Your children are waiting for you."
In the living room, the children were sitting on the sofa. Quietly awaiting her arrival and the telling of the story they both loved so much. She sat down, hoping to give a summarized version but they both protested.
"You have to start it proper mom, with 'this isn't your average tale.'"
"Okay, okay. Are you two comfortable?"
They nodded. And she started her story.
"This isn't your average tale of fairies and frogs, princes and princesses. This isn't a story of everlasting love or never ending woe. This isn't a story of murder and suspense, nor is it one of cheer and hapiness. No, this is a story about life, about love and about family. There are no happy endings, in fact there are no endings at all. Because some people say, 'life is short' but this isn't true. In truth, life is the longest thing you'll ever do. So this is the story of knowing who you are, of loving and giving, even if it's only from afar. And as this is no average tale, it starts as no other would, with a simple journey made by a girl, who didn't realise how it would change her world. And as I begin this story remember, that it has no 'happily ever after'.
