Nobody's Perfect

While checking on posts of some of my Facebook friends a little while ago, I ran across an amusing one and felt like sharing it.

Bobby, a lifelong friend of my son’s, posted a picture. Seems he got all the way to work one day before he looked down and saw this:

 

His explanation: his dog, Betty, an adorable little black pug, had distracted him. We’ll buy that, Bobby.  It could happen to any of us. 

I think we’ve all done something similar.

Many years ago, at Christmastime, my daughter, Tish, and I, in a festive mood and feeling kind of silly, went with Mr. H. to pick up an item at the grocery store. We didn’t intend to get out of the car, just went along for the ride and to enjoy the Christmas lights. Just before we left, I grabbed a red velvet bow, not

exactly like, but similar to this one: clipped it to my hair, right in front and said, “Let’s go.” My daughter giggled and we got in the car. But alas, you never know what will happen on any given jaunt and we had an unexpected mishap! A lady barreled out of a side street and hit our car in the side! No one was hurt and the damage was minimal. Nevertheless, it was frightening for a few seconds and even more upsetting because our car was new!

 

So outta the car I bounced and, while Mr. H. took care of all the boring stuff like

exchanging insurance companies, addresses and phone numbers, I walked around and around surveying the damage to our new car. Tish stayed in the car. At one point, I looked through the window at her and she was laughing so hard and pointing to her head. It took a few seconds for my brain to process her message, but it finally hit me! I had been parading around out there for ten minutes – with that big hideous red bow perched on my head! I immediately dashed for the car, my face as red as the bow, but I don’t know why I bothered. All the spectators had already witnessed my stupid look! I pulled the bow out of my hair and we laughed until tears ran down our faces. 

I just committed my latest blunder in May when I was rushing to get Mr. H. to the hospital for surgery at 5 a.m. I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say that, after being at the hospital for a couple of hours, I discovered that I had put my shirt on over my pajama top. I somehow managed to wriggle out of it inconspicuously, and stash it in my purse. Felt a lot better after that. It was awfully bulky!

Feel better now, Bobby?
 

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton  

It's What I Do

Someone recently asked me, “Why do you write?”

I thought about it for a while but couldn’t come up with anything specific.

I never needed a reason before. Writing has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I once got into trouble when I was in the second grade for writing a poem instead of doing what the teacher had assigned. My punishment: finish the poem and read it to the class. It went like this:

  “I woke up this morning and felt something

   in the air. I couldn’t name it, but it was there.

   I ran to my window and looked around

   There it was! Snow on the ground!”

My classmates cheered. The teacher smirked and said, “Please take your seat, Peggy. Now class, open your Health books to page....”

I stay up most nights until four or five a.m. writing. I write wherever I am – in a car, on a bus, on a plane, in a restaurant – if not literally, then in my mind.

It’s what I do.

It’s my life.

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton
 

Quote~

It's What I Do

Someone recently asked me, “Why do you write?”

I thought about it for a while but couldn’t come up with anything specific.

I never needed a reason before. Writing has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. I once got into trouble when I was in the second grade for writing a poem instead of doing what the teacher had assigned. My punishment: finish the poem and read it to the class. It went like this:

  “I woke up this morning and felt something

   in the air. I couldn’t name it, but it was there.

   I ran to my window and looked around

   There it was! Snow on the ground!”

My classmates cheered. The teacher smirked and said, “Please take your seat, Peggy. Now class, open your Health books to page....”

I stay up most nights until four or five a.m. writing. I write wherever I am – in a car, on a bus, on a plane, in a restaurant – if not literally, then in my mind.

It’s what I do.

It’s my life.

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton

It's the Little Things

July 1^st 

Just think – only six short months from today, we’ll be celebrating New Year’s Day!

Half a year gone already.

When I mentioned this to my sixteen year old granddaughter, she looked at me – pierced eyebrows raised in bafflement – and said, “That can’t be. Summer hasn’t even started yet.”

“Ah, I know, darlin’,” I said, “but it doesn’t matter. Just hide and watch. After the fourth of July celebrations are over, back to school clothes will magically appear on the shelves in stores and don’t be surprised if pumpkins start to show up, too. Why, one TV station is even going to show some Christmas movies in a week or so."

She walked away shaking her head in disbelief.

I sat there chuckling and thinking about all my summer-lovin’ friends and family - and how they taunt me for months about their beach vacations and pool parties, knowing how much I hate hot weather.

Payback is not that far away!  

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton