Five Things I Need To Tell Prince Charming

One of my friends asked me what were the five things that I would want to discuss with my husband before I married him. I usually just grumble at her something like, "Where the hell is he?" but, it being Christmas, I decided to humor her.
Five Things I Need To Tell and/or Discuss with Prince Charming

1. This is a very important one, so pay attention: I will not live in a shack and help you build our dream home. I will only live in a shack if we can't afford something better. But, if you have enough money to buy acreage, building materials, and the tools you will need (back hoes, cement mixers, etc.) to build the house; why not just buy a small little house with heat and a shower? I am an absolute bitch when I'm dirty and cold and I don't think our marriage will hold up under the strain of it. Besides, I don't know how I feel about this back ho business . . .

2. Children. How many and from where. I'm not too picky, but if you say zero, we're going to have some issues.

3. How you feel about marriage. What does marriage mean to you? What kind of commitment do you expect to make? What would make you leave?

4. I am a Christian. Do you have a problem with this? I am going to talk to my children about God and take them to church. My beliefs are important to me and I have to have the freedom to share my beliefs with my children and let them make the choice of what they want to believe.

5. I absolutely refuse to give birth to a child unless I get to raise that child. I am not going to go through labor just to hand my baby off to daycares and nannies. I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not for me. I'm very old fashioned in some ways and some part of me would love nothing more than to be a homemaker.

I always feel embarrassed about #5 and I'm not sure why, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with money.

Possibly the Last Short Story for Awhile

Something strange happened this month: I missed my 12 Short Stories deadline. There have been many things changing in my life, and I’ve realized that there are a few things I will need to put less energy into. That doesn’t mean I won’t write anymore, but that I may write less, or may just focus on longer pieces. That being said, I did write something, it just didn’t meet the word count. So here is one more story. It’s not a story about politics, it’s a story about human nature and human feelings. ——— The war is over, or at least that is what they say. But how do you stop such a thing once it is started? Charles sighed when I asked him, “You act as if you don’t understand politics.” “I don’t,” I scratched a sliver of paint off the window with a razor, “I’m not even sure we should be doing this.” “They said we could remove the blackout paint,” Charles swiped an even curl of latex to the ground. It fell among the budding roses, an artificial petal. “But there are still soldiers ove

Decay, Swine, and Beauty

We are staying at an estate that is like a beautiful woman with tangled hair. Neglect is slowly wearing away at her, and you know that in ten years she will no longer be beautiful. But right now, her unkemptness makes her eyes seem wild, and she is ablaze with a vibrancy no clipped hedge ever had. And there is a pig. I'm hoping to have a little more time to write while we're here. The kids have attended one day of school this month thanks to the snow, and they had some fierce cabin fever. I've been inching along with my mystery, but I really want to get sidetracked and write a little office romance for kicks.

Short Story: Distraction

It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s

Refracted Neurons

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