LJ Idol, Prompt 8: “You are an opossum living in the trashcan of my heart"
“Sshhh… don’t wake her.”
Dad grinned. “I haven’t woken her yet, Marla. That kid can sleep through a hail storm on a tin roof.”
Quickly, I snuck a peek towards the Christmas tree. My face was mostly hidden by the throw pillow, so they weren’t likely to notice. I had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting impatiently for Santa, and at some point mom must have draped the afghan over me.
The tree twinkled softly, and the living room was mostly dark.
Dad was trying not to jingle the ornaments as he propped a purple bicycle partially behind the tree. It was exactly what I had wanted! It had a white banana seat, purple and white streamers hung from the handlebars, and a white basket with purple butterflies on it decorated the front.
I sighed softly. It was perfect!
Dad stopped fussing with the bike and glanced my way.
I yawned, turned my face towards the back of the couch, and snored softly.
“Phew,” Dad said. When I heard him turn away, I adjusted my head slightly so I could see them out of the corner of my eye.
Mom chuckled softly as dad added the training wheels. “Hurry up, Dan. The twins will probably wake up soon.”
“Then all hell will break loose,” he stage whispered, stood, and handed her the wrench.
Dad stuck a huge, shiny bow to the seat of the bike. “Who knew three-year-olds could make more noise than a trash can full of possums?”
I heard mom giggle, and knew without looking that she was standing on her tiptoes with her arms draped around dad’s neck. He was a full foot taller than her. “You have a way with words, my dear.”
“And you,” he added as he kissed the tip of her nose, “have a way of making wonderful children. Shall we see about a quick nap before this particular possum decides to wake up?”
I peeked, and saw mom kissing Santa Claus.
“My heart,” she replied, handing him back the wrench, “what an excellent idea.”
As soon as I heard their bedroom door close, I threw off the afghan and ran upstairs to wake the twins. What an excellent Christmas this would be!
Dad grinned. “I haven’t woken her yet, Marla. That kid can sleep through a hail storm on a tin roof.”
Quickly, I snuck a peek towards the Christmas tree. My face was mostly hidden by the throw pillow, so they weren’t likely to notice. I had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting impatiently for Santa, and at some point mom must have draped the afghan over me.
The tree twinkled softly, and the living room was mostly dark.
Dad was trying not to jingle the ornaments as he propped a purple bicycle partially behind the tree. It was exactly what I had wanted! It had a white banana seat, purple and white streamers hung from the handlebars, and a white basket with purple butterflies on it decorated the front.
I sighed softly. It was perfect!
Dad stopped fussing with the bike and glanced my way.
I yawned, turned my face towards the back of the couch, and snored softly.
“Phew,” Dad said. When I heard him turn away, I adjusted my head slightly so I could see them out of the corner of my eye.
Mom chuckled softly as dad added the training wheels. “Hurry up, Dan. The twins will probably wake up soon.”
“Then all hell will break loose,” he stage whispered, stood, and handed her the wrench.
Dad stuck a huge, shiny bow to the seat of the bike. “Who knew three-year-olds could make more noise than a trash can full of possums?”
I heard mom giggle, and knew without looking that she was standing on her tiptoes with her arms draped around dad’s neck. He was a full foot taller than her. “You have a way with words, my dear.”
“And you,” he added as he kissed the tip of her nose, “have a way of making wonderful children. Shall we see about a quick nap before this particular possum decides to wake up?”
I peeked, and saw mom kissing Santa Claus.
“My heart,” she replied, handing him back the wrench, “what an excellent idea.”
As soon as I heard their bedroom door close, I threw off the afghan and ran upstairs to wake the twins. What an excellent Christmas this would be!