Category: writing
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(Kennedy’s Balloons) Kennedy’s grip on the ribbons was tight, A bundle of dreams in the carnival night. With Mom by her side and her friends in a spin, She laughed as the moon tried joinin’ in. Up, up she floated past lanterns and trees, Through cotton-candy clouds and a peppermint breeze. The stars gave her…
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Volume 2. Reminiscing memories of past celebration It began with a flick of my tail. A rebellion brewing beneath calico fur. The baby gate—a feeble metal insult to my agility—stood smugly between me and the sunbeam throne in the living room. On the other side? James. Small. Loud. Clutchy. The human spawn with paws sticky…
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🎙️Voice of David Attenborough (well… spirit of, with mild parental exhaustion) Narrator:We now enter the final phase of the day in the maternal wilderness: the bedtime ritual. A process both sacred and utterly futile. The mother—exhausted, worn, hair resembling a nest recently abandoned by squirrels—ushers her cubs toward the den. Their bodies heavy with fatigue.…
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🎙️Narrated by Sir Crumbleberry, Protector of Parental Hope Location: A suburban soccer field.Season: Mid-spring, the grass is damp and the juice boxes flow freely.Focus: One second-born child. One soccer game. Zero regulation. As the whistle blows and older cubs charge down the field in semi-coordinated herds, we shift our lens to a lesser-known marvel of…
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Dan had just returned from his Florida lacrosse weekend — sun‑kissed, relaxed, smelling like turf and freedom — while I had spent three days refereeing small humans who operate exclusively on chaos energy and snack dust. We’d already had a full day of playing with friends, and earlier I thought I had found my moment…
