59. Hungry

Spaghetti, meatballs, apple pie

Cranberries, raisins, beef pad thai 

Popcorn, pizza, deep-fried scone

Cereal, yogurt, ice cream cone

58. Mouse. No, Horse

Sniff. Sniff sniff. Cheese. Sniff sniff. Sniff sniff sniff. Horse. No. Human. Sniff. Dog. Gross. No. Human. Sniff. Grass. Sniff sniff. Bread. Ahh. Cheese. Sniff. Yum. Whoa! How did I get so high?! Hey, Where did my cheese go? Wait, cheese? Hey, I want an apple. And oats. Strange. Oats. Hey, Can I have oats? Can I? Can I? Hey, what's this stuff on my back? Hey, where are my paws? Hey, Foodgiver's not that big anymore. Hey, who's that? Oh hey, these are my friends. They look weird. Hey, you smell funny. Hey, where are we going? Ouch! Get away! Oh, hey, that's sparkly. Let's go! Hey, I hope I get some cheese now. No, oats.

57. Mommy Dear

Hugs and cuddles

Cuts and tears

Rain and puddles 

Hopes and fears 

Joy and laughter

Clap and cheer

What he's after

Mommy dear

56. Gianette

They have selected me to wed Prince Edmond. There is no surprise. I am his most beautiful companion. Of course would choose me. They have been putting us together for years. As children we played together. He was never much fun. He always wanted to get dirty and play with little swamp creatures or play war with my brothers. I guess that part wasn't so bad. They would joust and fight with swords or maces. Of course, it was always sticks when we were very young. But I was always the prize. The fair princess whose hand they were dueling for. And I make a very good princess. I did then and I will now, as soon as they set the date for our wedding. I've heard there is some debate about that, but I know it will get settled. And soon. I am sure Prince Edmond is anxious for me to become his wife. Who wouldn't be? Just look at me. I am perfection. Who else could compare to me? Certainly not Lady Faye or Lady Alice. They are like little candles compared to the glorious beauty of the sun. I am the sun, in this picture. Radiant. Beaming. Heavenly. Everyone I meet tells me so. They are all struck dumb by me. It is a great power I carry. It's no wonder they chose to match me with a prince. No one else is worthy of my beauty. And I will become the most beautiful princess there has ever been. Even the queen was not as beautiful as me when she was only a princess. She wasn't very beautiful at all, really. I can't imagine what they were thinking when they set her to be betrothed to the king. She is so plain. She must have had a great dowry. My dowry will be large enough, but hers must have been unimaginably large to make up for her face. I wonder what Prince Edmond thinks of his mother's plainness. He must be quite embarrassed. I suppose he gets his looks from his father. And what looks he has. He is not the most handsome man I've met, but he is certainly the richest most powerful. Just look at these balls he has thrown! So much food and music and light! Even my father would be in awe of this place. It is a wonderful sight. And tonight is to be the third night in a row. I think these balls are to announce our engagement. Sometime tonight they will finalize our betrothal and I will be announced as the future princess and queen. That must be why Prince Edmond has kept away. He doesn't want to give away the surprise. Well, I will act surprised when it happens. I will clap my hands and cry out with joy! Perhaps I shall faint. Men love it when girls faint. Yes, tonight is about me. And I will be beyond glorious. I will stun the crowd with my beauty. I will be the envy of everyone at the ball. And they shall see what a queen I will make. The ball begins! I am coming, my subjects. Behold, your queen!

55. The Grand Duke -- the carriage ride

Really, this is very humiliating. Playing the part of a servant. Me. I'm a Duke. But here I am, driving around the country at the feet of women. I have had thrust in my face the dirty, smelling feet of pig farmers. I hate feet. Smelly, disgusting things. And only a handful have had the decency to clean their feet before trying on the slipper. I have had to clean out fragments of mud and dirt and even some dead skin after one truly horrid woman. This is an awful business.

But the king ordered it, so I will carry out his plan. 

I have been at this since before the sun rose. I have visited nearly every home in town. And before now I have escorted only four women to the Viscount's study. And now three in one household. This is truly most remarkable. It is also most awkward. 

I expected these three girls to be excited and chatty. The others were. But, no, they haven't spoken a word since we left Sir Eccles estate. And my, what they say about his library is true. It is most exquisite. Never have I seen so many volumes in one place. Even my untrained eye could see the value of some of the works he had collected. One could spend weeks in there. It has to be one of the greatest stores of knowledge in the kingdom. Even the Viscount of Bellamy would be jealous.

These girls are most strange. They do make me so uncomfortable. The older one sits with an air of triumph, as if she is the ruler of this little pack. I suppose she is. She looks as if she would kill her own mother to get ahead in life. My, how she reminds me of my lady duchess. 

The younger lady cowers in a corner as if she were frightened of the idea of the Viscount. And we'll she may be. I know I was when I first met him. What a surprise it will be for her when she finds it is the prince she will meet instead of the Viscount. She looks green enough now,  I fear she will faint at sight of the prince.

And then there is the maid. I cannot decide what to make of her silence. Is it fear of the Viscount? Respect for her ladies? Worry about her Mistress's demand that she stay? What was that woman thinking, pulling at her in such a way. She is just a serving girl. Even my lady duchess can be without a maid for a day. Our Bessie left us for a week not long ago to tend to her dying mother and my lady duchess was fine. There are always other maids to serve her. But they did seem to treat this one differently. She wasn't quartered with the other maids when they tried the slipper on. I wonder why that is. Maybe she is ill-tempered? No, that cannot be. She has only shown respect and deference to her lady. Not that Madame Eccles deserved it. Her behavior was most unbecoming. Perhaps I will offer her a place among my own maids when this business is ended.

Ahh, the Viscount's manor. Here I leave them and off I go to find more ladies for His Highness. I hate feet.

54. The Fitting - first stepsister

I don't know what Denise is whining about. It's just one toe. We let her keep all the other ones. And I gave up a heel. Sure, it hurts a little, but it'll heal. And it's worth a little pain if it means marrying Edmond. She should be happy we're giving her this chance. But no, she's just whimpering in the corner over there, sitting on the dirty floor just like Cinderella. Where is that girl anyway? She should have answered the bell by now. We rang ages ago for her to come clean up this mess.

"Honestly, Denise," I scold, "get up. You're a lady of noble blood. Stand up this instant." She obeys, but she's barely letting her altered foot touch the ground. "Let's go put that slipper on and meet the prince. Our family is going to rise today."

I jump down from my stool and wince as the pain of impact shoots up my leg. I grimace, determined not to let Denise see my pain. On my toes, I lead the way through the chateau to the parlor where the Viscount's man is waiting with the glass slipper.

Mother announces our decision, her little voice full of false sweetness. "We have decided that it is not beneath us to participate in this study of the Viscount's.  We all three will try on your master's shoe."

Mother rings the parlor bell, summoning Cinderella once again. She has always been a lazy thing, but she's never taken this long to respond to a call. 

Mother sits before the Viscount's man and offers him her foot. He gingerly lifts the little shoe from its case and attempts to slide it over Mother's large toes. There's no surprise that it doesn't fit. The slipper goes over her toes, but the back doesn't even reach to her heel. I get my size from her. I'm suddenly very glad she took off so much of my heel.

The man turns to try the slipper on Denise next, but she is shaking so badly I worry she might break the slipper before I get a chance to try it on. "Me first," I say to him before he can kneel down in front of her. "I am older. You must serve me first in this house."

I swear he rolls his eyes at me. Normally I would banish him from my presence for behavior like that, but this is too important. Even though he is only a servant, I can't afford to let him leave without me. Not if it takes away my chances with my Edmond.

The man kneels before me and I position my foot to the best advantage. It's a good thing I thought to cover my legs with red stockings. I can feel the  dampness of blood seeping through the bandages. "It's so warm in here," I complain. "Where is Cinderella? Can't she open a window? I'm so hot my feet are perspiring." I give the man a smile as an apology. Hopefully that will keep him from asking about the bandages. 

"If you mean your maid, she's gone to wash. She didn't want to get the slipper dirty with what she called the grime of her station. It was very considerate of her. I've handled more dirty and putrid feet today than I ever wish to see again." 

My goodness, this man is forward. How dare he speak to me like this. Think of Edmond. I'm going to marry Prince Edmond. I plaster a smile on my face and grit my teeth. "How thoughtful of her. I would like to try the slipper now."

"Of course, my lady."

My foot slips in and the back cups my newly formed heel. It fits. I pray that he doesn't ask me to stand and I'm relieved when he says simply "that's a fit," and takes it off again. 

The parlor door opens and Cinderellla enters, carrying our morning tea. Mother glares at her and scolds her for not coming sooner. 

"I am sorry, Madame. I washed as quickly as I could. The slipper is so beautiful. I didn't want to soil it with my dirty feet."

"You're pink all over. I can see what you've been up to. You took advantage of this and washed all over. You are a servant in this house, Cinderella, and you will behave like one. You get your weekly washing before we worship and that is it! You remember that or I will throw you out as I should have done years ago." Mother has made that threat so many times now,  even Denise has figured out she'll never do it. I can't imagine why, though. Mother hates Cinderella and treats her worse than any of rest of the servants in the household. And yet she's dismissed others, but Cinderella keeps her place. I suppose Mother is still harboring some feelings for the long-gone Sir Eccles and that's what allows Cinderella to stay.

Denise begins to whimper and I turn my attention to her in time to see the shining shoe snug on her foot and hear the man say "Another fit. How interesting."

Behind his back, I motion for Denise to be quiet. If this man suspects at all that we didn't fit that slipper last night, we're done for.

I sweetly place my hand on the man's arm and give him my most radiant smile. "So, I guess that means we go to see the Viscount now? Will you take us there directly or will we stop at other estates to fit more ladies?" I know the answer to this. The only houses around are peasants and servants. Townspeople. That girl was too delicate and refined to be a commoner. No, we will go straight to the Viscount.

He confirms my thoughts almost instantly. "We will go the Viscount of Bellamy." I cannot contain my grin. "After this maiden has tried on the slipper." My grin dissolves into a grimace. 

"Of course," I say. "Anything for the Viscount."

She approaches and the man has the gall to ask me to give up my seat to her. To Cinderella. A servant! How dare he? I almost refuse him, but the image of me wearing a crown and seated in a throne next to my dear Prince Edmond calms me. I take a deep breath to steady myself and rise to give the dirty serving girl my seat.

At least she has the decency to look uncomfortable about this situation. She thanks me and sits, pulling off her little, ragged, brown stocking and revealing perfect little pink toes. I have never noticed just how tiny her feet are before now. The man slips the glass slipper onto her foot in one easy movement. It fits perfectly. It fits like it was made for her foot. 

This really isn't fair. How can this obnoxious little serving girl fit perfectly into the shoe of a princess? I worry now that there will be many more girls than I had originally expected at the Viscount's home. If Cinderella can go to meet the prince, who else will be there?

Mother comes to my defense at once. "She cannot go. I need her here in my service. You cannot take her."

"I must, Madame. My instructions are to bring every girl who fits the slipper. Serving girl or Lady. I am sorry for any inconvenience." He doesn't look remotely sorry. 

Mother doesn't let up. "The Viscount will have to excuse this particular girl. She cannot go." Mother has her hands on Cinderella's arm and is pulling her out of the chair with the slipper still attached to her foot.

He is flustered by this and grabs Cinderella's leg, pulling the shoe and the girl back toward him. Denise laughs at the surprise on Cinderella's face. What a child. This is much too serious. If Cinderella comes, that's one more person who could steal my prince.

The man has managed to slip the shoe from Cinderella's foot, but her has not let go of her. "What makes you think you are more deserving than any other?" he asks Mother. "Others have had servants who fit the shoe and they have all gone to meet the Viscount. Why should this girl not have the same opportunity?" 

Mother is frantically trying to drag Cinderella out of the man's reach, but he is too strong for her and he will not relax his grip. Mother is making a fool out of herself and by extension me, and I cannot have that.

"Let her go, Mother," I say. But she doesn't hear me. I yell "let her go!" and Mother drops her to the floor, shocked at my voice. I have never yelled at Mother before. Servants, groomsmen, shopkeepers, yes, but never Mother. 

For once I am grateful for Denise. She speaks quietly, but boldly in my defense. "You couldn't hear her. You can do without her for a few hours, Mother. Tom and Sydney will be able to fulfill her duties while she is away. You are doing more harm by refusing to let her come than she can do by coming."

Well, this is a day for firsts. I yell at Mother and Denise speaks wisely. Whatever will happen next?

The man dusts himself off and helps Cinderella to her feet. He gives Cinderella his arm and she takes it, looking like she's afraid that if she lets go, she'll never escape the house. The man nods to Mother, mutters an abrupt and only just polite enough "good day, Madame," and walks to the door with Cinderella. She pauses and looks back into the room at Denise and me. Denise stands and gives Mother the briefest of curtsies before following them out the door.

I am left alone in the parlor with Mother. The look she gives me is whithering, and I am ashamed for my outburst. My eyes drop to the ground and I offer her a deep, respectful curtsy before whispering "I will win Prince Edmond, Mother," and walking out the door after my sister.

53. An Unguarded Guard

The slaves are very active this evening. This wouldn't be so strange normally, but since Moses came back and brought these plagues with him, they've been rather subdued. Trying not to make things even worse, I guess. But not tonight. 

For hours I've seen them walking back and forth from their homes to the sheep fields. Thousands of them. They're taking only lambs back with them. There's been no talk of this being a holy day, and there are no celebrations. It's eerily quiet. That makes it even more strange. There's so much activity, but hardly any of them are speaking. They don't hide what they're doing. It's not sneaky. Just hushed.

The lambs are being killed, and they're using the blood as some sort of coating on their doorways. I don't know what it means, but it worries me. This is something new.

I've begun to wonder if Moses isn't crazy after all. Every time he has said His God will bring a plague, a plague comes. Our priests and priestesses can't seem to stop them. I know Moses went to see Ramses again today, and now this. I don't know what it means, but I'm not so sure I think they're wrong. 

There is a bucket of lamb's blood left in the road. It was left by a Hebrew who has retreated into his home. Many of them have shut themselves in and not come back out. I take the bucket when no one is looking and return to my own home. 

No one is watching. They are all too sick or afraid from these plagues. I coat my doorway with the lamb's blood and go inside. I shut the door tight and greet my wife. She has just put the children in bed. I tell her about the Hebrew activity and what I have done. She tells me I have made a good choice. This is not the first time she has expressed interest in the Hebrews and their faith. 

We eat our dinner and go to sleep.

I am awoken in the eat morning by screams. Our neighbors are singing death cries. I am not surprised. They have young children and these plagues have been hard on the young. But then I hear more and more. 

I leave my home to find out the trouble. All around, my neighbors are mourning death. Young and old. Rich and poor. Only males. It doesn't take long for me to realize it is only the oldest sons who have died. I have a son.

I run back as fast as my legs can take me. I cannot keep my tears back. My boy. My poor boy. Is he gone, too? 

I burst through my door and cry out. All of my children are sitting with their mother. All of them. They are crying, frightened by the noise of death. But they live. All three of my boys live. 

My tears of fear turn to tears of joy. I hug my family tightly and laugh. I cannot help it. I am too relieved. My wife asks me what has happened and I tell her what I have seen. She sends me to see after the Hebrews.

I am on my feet once again, running to the slaves. And there is no mourning. 

There is only silence.

I cannot know for sure, so I go to a home where I know the leaders meet. I knock. An Elder answers. He is expecting another face. He is expecting Moses. I tell him that my son lives when a of my neighbors have lost theirs. He lets me in and I tell him what I saw last night and what I did. 

As I speak, Moses comes. Ramses has released the slaves. They are leaving for their promised land. The Elders send runners to spread the word. All will gather within the hour and they will leave. The room is empty but for me, Moses, and two Elders. I sit silently, unsure what I should do. It is Moses who breaks the silence.

"Bring your family. Come, follow the Lord."

I return to my wife. We gather what we can carry. It is not much. But I have put my faith in the Hebrew God, and He will protect us. 

We join the Hebrews.

52. Luigi's plight

Every day the same old thing. My older brother's girl gets kidnapped -- we go after her. You'd think she'd get some body guards or something. Or learn karate. But no, she gets kidnapped and it's up to us to save her. Two plumbers. Fighting a family of dragons. To save a princess. They should knight us or something. Or at least reward us with some of that gold we always have to pick up along the way. 

I have to hand it to those dragons, though. They're pretty cunning. I mean, I know they're the enemy and all, and I'm supposed to hate them, but they're pretty smart. They manage to get into a castle, nab the princess, and get out without being caught. Then they lead us through a bunch of obstacle courses, haunted mansions, evil lairs, and so forth, to make it difficult for us to reclaim her.

If the royal guard were half as clever, those dragons would never get in.

Oh, your toilet's clogged? Sorry, I've got to go save a kingdom.

51. Swings

To a two-year-old, a swing is the best thing in the world. It's the closest she can get to flying. It's freedom itself. 

We get to the park and Jane immediately runs to the swings. Big surprise. Her favorite is one of those baby swings that has had the front cut off and replaced with a simple, plastic-covered chain. This way she can sit back and not worry about her hiney slipping out behind her, but she feels like a big girl because she is free in front. She's been able to hold onto the arm chains without a problem for months now, so I don't worry. 

I lift Jane into the swing, clip the safety chain into place, and push. Swinging is awesome! My little girl is the happiest kid in the world. "More!" she screams. So I push her higher. "More! Bigger!" I'm enjoy her giggles of delight as she soars through the air. Hooray! Life is good! This is the best!

Until it's not.

Apparently there IS such a thing as "too high." Instead of slipping backward, Jane slips forward on a too-high back-swing. Her skin body quickly slides through the narrow gap between seat and safety chain (physics, anyone?) 

Unfortunately for little Jane, her head is not quite so slim as her body, and chin catches on the chain. Too short to reach the ground and two light to fall, the poor girl dangles from the suddenly-stopped swing. The jerk of the stop dislodges her poor chin, but alas, her cute little two-year-old nose is too much and she gets caught again.

Of course, all of this happens in about a second and a half. Supermom steps into action, unhook poor Jane's nose and let her drop to wood chips.

I have never been such a wonderful, terrible, and then wonderful again mother in such a short amount of time before.

Two minutes later, she's in the swing again.

50. Fifty

Fifty states

Fifty stars

Fifty shades

Fifty scars

Fifty cats

Fifty cops

Fifty cars

Fifty crops

Fifty prayers

Fifty props

Fifty piles

Fifty plops

Fifty nights and fifty days

See yourself in fifty ways.

49. The Stepmother

"Madame, there is a gentleman from the palace at the gate," the doorman says with a bow.

My head is jerked backward as Cinderella's drops my brush from her hands. The clutz. I turn around and slap her for her foolishness. "Be careful, you fool. I already have a headache from being up so long at those worthless balls. I don't need you making it even worse." I touch my hand to my temple, wishing I could rub away the throbbing behind my eyes. The girl whispers her apology from the floor. She is so pathetic. No one would guess from her dirty rags and her smudged face that her father had once been one of the greatest men in the kingdom. She is a disgrace to my name and his. 

"Oh get up and finish," I say with a little kick at her knees. I turn back to my mirror and remember the doorman'so message. "Do you know what he wants?" I ask.

"He requests a meeting with all the women of the house. Something about trying a slipper on. It has to do with some scientific study of body shapes that the Viscount of Bellamy is conducting." He looks past me and I follow his gaze. The color has drained from Cinderella's face and she looks like she might faint.

"What is the matter with you, girl?" I ask sharply.

She speaks so quietly I can barely hear her. "I'm sorry, Madame. I'm not feeling very well this morning. I think I just need some water."

I flick my hand at her in dismissal. "Be quick about it. Then fetch my daughters and bring them to the library. We will meet the Viscount's man there. Bronson, show him in." The doorman bows and retreats and I make my way to my late husband's library. 

I hate this room. It smells of decay and dust and old animal, but even after all these years, I dare not change it. This is where Sir Eccles entertained visitors. This is where he discussed political matters with dukes, earls, lords, and princes. This room is what everyone thinks of when Sir Eccles is mentioned. As much as I hate it, this room gives us the status I need to win good marriages for my daughters.

My daughters enter the room yawning. They have clearly just woken up. Denise is still in her nightdress and has merely thrown a cloak over it for a pretense of modesty. No matter. The Viscount won't see how she looks. But he'll know we participated in another of his studies. 

The man is a complete bore, constantly droning on about his newest great passion in life. I would much rather be eating toast than listening to him prattle away, but he does tend to favor those who participate in his schemes, and the Viscount's favors are not to be turned away.

Muriel gracelessly slumps down into the chair next to me. Normally I would reprimand her and demand better etiquette from a lady, but I feel much the way she looks this morning. I really should not have had quite so much to drink last night. 

We sit in silence for only a few moments until the door opens again and Cinderella leads in a short, balding man carrying a small black chest beneath his arm. I rise to welcome him, but the girls don't even move. 

The man bows and begins a bored speech which sounds as if he has given it a hundred times already this morning. "Good morning, Madame Eccles, ladies. My Lord the Viscount of Bellamy thanks you for your participation in his scientific study this morning." As if anyone would refuse. "He asks only that you try on this slipper which I carry with me." As he finishes, he sets the chest on a little table and lifts the lid. Inside, nestled in silks of the finest make is a small, beautiful glass shoe.

I roll my eyes at the Viscount's fanciful dreams. No one could fit their foot into that shoe. Before I can tell the man to be off, Muriel jumps from her seat. She is as if she'd never felt ill at all.

"What happens if the shoe fits," she asks. I hear the sweet innocence in her voice and know at once that she has seen some significance that I have missed. 

I let the man answer, uninterrupted. "The Viscount asks that I escort any women who fit the shoe to his home, where he can do further research for his study."

Muriel nods politely. "Would you excuse us, sir, while I discuss with my mother whether I should participate in this study?"

The man agrees and closes the lid on his small treasure. Cinderella opens the door for him to leave. That girl has been standing in the corner this whole time, lazy as usual. I call to her, "Cinderella, show him to the parlor and then get back to your duties. The fireplaces need sweeping out. We have no use for you here anymore."

"Actually, Madame," the man interrupts, putting a hand out to stop Cinderella from retreating, "I have been ordered to ask every woman in the kingdom to try the slipper on."

I laugh at his absurdity. "Surely the Viscount has no use for a scullery maid."

"She is a woman, is she not?" He asks. The question does not need an answer so he continues. "Then she must try the slipper, if she will."

Muriel glances at me furtively and shakes her head as discreetly as she can, but I cannot refuse the Viscount without offending him. "Fine, she may try the slipper if she wishes. But I can't see that it will do the Viscount any good. She is only a servant girl." He bows again and they shut the door to the library as they go out.

Muriel immediately pounces on me. "That shoe must fit my foot, Mother! You have to make it fit my foot." I reel backward at her ferocity and stumble into the seat behind me.

"Calm yourself, Muriel," I demand. "It is only another one of the Viscount's silly studies. Why should you care so much?"

"Because I have seen that slipper, before, Mother. Last night. That is her slipper. The girl who was dancing with Edmond."

"Prince Edmond," I remind her. "You mustn't be so forward about him. He is royalty."

"I don't care, Mother. Don't you see? He is looking for her. He doesn't know who she is and he is using the Viscount to find her!" Breath, child. "If my foot fits into the slipper, I have another chance at him. This is it, Mother. This is my last chance to be queen." If crowns were given out based on the amount of passion a person could display, my daughter would be queen. 

I ask her if she is sure it is the same slipper and she assures me it is. I jump a little as Denise speaks. I had quite forgotten she was here. "There's no way you can fit into that slipper, Muriel," she says. "You're much too big. That was the most tiny slipper I've ever seen. The most beautiful, but the most tiny."

She is right. "No. She won't fit. But if it means a chance at being queen, we will make it fit." I grab them both by the arm and drag them away from the stinking smell of the library. "To the kitchen, both of you."

"What are we going to do?" Denise asks childishly.

I pull them along behind me. One of my daughters will marry the prince. "We're going to make the shoe fit."

48. The Pageboy

No one notices the servant. I stand there every day, but to them I am invisible. I am deaf. I am blind. I am there when they need me -- a message to send, an errand to run, a platter to carry -- but I don't exist if they don't want me to. 

Some people would say this is a lonely way to live, but I say it is the only way. I am rarely asked to give my opinion. I am not forced to make polite conversation with those I dislike. I cannot be embarrassed because I cannot fail. If I speak, it is with the words of another. But I listen for myself. And because I am invisible, I hear everything.

I know the king is ill.

I know there is only one assured heir to the throne.

I know there is war brewing to claim that throne.

And I know the only ones who know the throne is in jeopardy are the royal family, the physician, and me.

A secret is a great burden to carry. 

47. Sleep Talk

"Achoo!"

"Who's there? Who's there?!"

"It's just me."

"What are you doing?!"

"I just sneezed. Go back to sleep."

"Why would you DO that?!"

"Because I had dust in my nose."

"But...why would you DO that?!"

"Because I had to sneeze. Go back to sleep."

"What?"

"Just lay down and go to sleep. It's okay. You're fine."

"Okay." ... "You have to get the beans."

"Yes, dear. Goodnight."

46. The Serpent and the Staff

My time is coming. I know that. My husband knows that. My daughter and her husband know that. They're all just waiting. Waiting for the Lord to take me. Waiting for my last breath to slip out of me. But I can't go yet. I haven't said goodbye to everyone yet. My son's wife is in labor. Their baby is nearly here. They send word of her progress every hour. She must deliver soon. I don't have much time left, and I want to meet this grandchild before I leave this world. I want to give this child my last blessing. So I lay here and I concentrate all my remaining energy on making it to the next minute. I want to meet this baby. 

My nephew enters my tent, puffing his breath. He bends, his head between his knees as he calms. He speaks. "The sickness is being lifted. Moses has placed a serpent on a staff, and all who look upon it are healed. Aunt, you can be healed!"

Healed. I can be rid of this poison in my body? "Where?" I whisper. I dare not say more, but my brother hears and asks what I cannot?

"Where is it? Where is this staff sent by our God? Where is Moses?"

"He is just come from the mountain," my nephew answers.

The mountain. We are as far from the mountain as we can be. Our camp stretches for miles. Thousands of families who fled from Egypt. We are only one of many. It will take days for the prophet to make his way to us. I don't have days.

My daughter says as much.

Her husband answers. "We could carry her to Moses. We could get her to the mountain before nightfall. She might make it."

I might. I might make it to the mountain. I might make it to Moses and be healed. I might live another decade. But I might not. And if I don't, my grandchild will not receive my blessing. I will not meet the little babe. 

I choose to stay. If it is God's will that I live, he will help me keep my strength. But I must give all I can to see this child. After the babe comes, I will greet my Father.

"No," I whisper. "Wait."

They argue amongst each other. Should they take me. Should they let me rest. I close my eyes and look inward. God has granted me a good life. I am not afraid to meet my Maker. 

There is a rustle as the tent opens. It is my son. He holds a small bundle of cloth in his arms. My grandchild has come to me.

My daughter lifts me so that I sit against her.

My son kneels at my side and turns the little child toward me. "It is a girl," he tells me. "We will give her your name."

My little girl. She is wonderful. So tiny, so perfect. I reach my hand to her, and my son places her in my arms. My daughter helps me to hold the tiny creature and I am filled with joy as I remember holding each of my children in their first moments of life. 

I know as I kiss her that this will be my last kiss. Hers will be the last hand that I hold. And I couldn't be happier than this moment, surrounded by all my family, with this most perfect child in my arms.

My time is come. I go to meet my Father.

45. Valentine

Very kind

All the way

Love you most

Ev'ry day

No one else

Try my best

I love you

Never rest

Entirely yours

44. Ave, Eave, I've, Ove

Wave, weave, wive, wove

Lave, leave, live, love

Clave, cleave, Clive, clove

Stave, stave, stive, stove

43. The Baker's Daughter

I'm I heard the news first from Jim Tomkin, but I didn't really believe him. Why would I be invited to the palace? Only the nobles went there. I thought he was just teasing me like usual. But then Miss Myrtle confirmed it. Everyone in the entire kingdom was invited. Even the nobodies like me. I ran home to tell Mama at once.

She was busy folding mounds of dough over and over. And she had already heard. "We need you here. We need to provide the palace with our very best tarts and buns and rolls," she told me.

"But Mama, this is a royal ball! And I can go! Inside! Inside the palace!" I was dancing around the little kitchen, practicing how I would greet the lords and ladies as I imagined them surrounding me. 

"I'm sorry, Tess. I know you want to go, but we need every hand we can get. The king has ordered thousands of treats to be made. This is our change to serve the King. This is the biggest chance we will ever get."

I knew she was right, but it just didn't seem fair. "So while Liz and Anne and Mary are dancing with the prince and his royal friends I'll be stuck here flouring and kneading and baking?"

Mama brushed a hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand as she turned to look at me. "Liz and Anne and Mary probably won't be going either. They have families who need their help just as much as we need yours."

"Who's going to visit the apothecary or order a new saddle when they 'be been invited to the palace to dance with the prince."

My big brother, ever the unhelpful cynic, chose that time to chime in. "Even if they do go to the ball, they're not likely to actually dance with the prince. He'll spend all his time with the daughters of the nobles in all their silks and diamonds and pearls. He'll hardly have eyes for the daughters of the baker or tanner. You're more likely to meet him on the street than at his ball."

I told him to go stuff his mouth and got an earful from Mama. As punishment for my rude mouth I got stuck pushing the raisins into the little round biscuits to be served at the ball I was not to attend.

For one small moment I had imagined being in the grand staircase, and instead I would deliver goods to the back door. 

So much for every maid in the kingdom.

42. Life on Earth

"There's no way that thing supports life, Xborg. Everyone knows we're the only life in the Universe."

"Then where did it come from if not Earth?"

"It's just a pile of space junk."

"That just happened to land softly? It slowed down before it landed. It didn't break apart. It didn't catch fire. It just landed."

"Maybe it's fireproof. I've told you a thousand times. There is no life on Earth."

"Yes, there is!"

"You're supposed to be a scientist, not a conspiracy theorist."

"I am a scientist. I've studied Earth more than any other person on Mars. I'm telling you, that planet supports life!"

"No way. We've been watching it for too long to have missed all life."

"Then how do you explain this thing?"

"It's just a space object. It's just...oh.  Umm...welcome to Mars?"

41. Life on Mars

"We've looked thousands of times, Howard. There's not going to be anyone there."

"They could live underground. They could burrow. They could make homes that resemble the surface."

"And we've just missed them every single time a telescope or a rover passed by?"

"We don't know what they look like. They could be boulder people or sand people."

"They're not. There are no people on Mars. Not until we open those doors."

"I'm telling you, there are. Those features are not natural."

"You're supposed to be a scientist, not a conspiracy theorist."

"I am a scientist. And my research has led me to believe we'll find life on Mars."

"You're wrong. Help me with this door."

"You'll see. We'll meet them within the week. They've probably already heard us land."

"Howard, for the last time. There is no life on...oh. Umm...we come in peace?"

40. Love or Death

The fact.

I can see it as an excuse for the next few weeks.

All of a sudden, it was the best of the day before.

I get a return on my way. 

It caught me.

39. Life of Pig

Born

Bought 

Fed

Dead

38. Opossum, oh, Possum

Opossum, admire my hamburger.

Oh, Possum, admire my kangaroo.

Opossum, admire my peanut butter.

Oh, Possum, admire my didgeridoo.

Oh, Possum, admire my opera house.

Opossum, admire my baseball.

Oh, Possum, admire my Vegemite.

Opossum, admire my rock n roll.

Opossum, admire my Out West.

Opossum, admire my surfing.

Oh, Possum, admire my Outback.

Oh, Possum, admire my surfing.

36. Bath time troubles

Three-year-old Jane, and eight-month-old Thomas took a bath together this morning. After a few attempts to chase his rubber ducky across the tub, Thomas was removed. I took him into his bedroom to diaper and dress him. He wanted to play with his toys, and Jane was happily splashing and chatting with the ducks in the tub, so I sat on the floor of Thomas's room and let him play. 

Jane loves bath time and will often play for over an hour if I allow it. I kept the doors between us open so we could talk to each other or I could hear if anything terrible were happening. 

About five minutes after I sat down with Thomas, Jane tells me that all of her bubbles are gone. Weird. I didn't put any bubbles in her bath. I suppose she means the bubbles that were left over from Thomas' scrubbing before I took him out. "Okay." I tell her. Two minutes later she tells me she's all done. Alright. 

As I disentangle myself from the limbs of the semi-standing Thomas, I see Jane. Dripping wet. Butt naked. In the hallway. Ah! I run to herd her back into the bathroom before she gets water everywhere. The faint slime of unrinsed soap greets my fingers as I steer her by the shoulders back into the bathroom. Strange. I guess she decided to wash herself. Then I look in the bathtub. More tiny bubbles than should have been were present. That's when I notice the bottle of baby shampoo. The giant one we opened last week. 

Empty.

I put my hand in the water. Yup. Totally saturated with baby body wash. Way to go, three-year-old. You won this round. 

37. Bath time fun

Water, water, splash a lot.

Water, water, ooh too hot!

Water, water, everywhere.

Water, water, in my hair.

Kick the water with my toes.

Push the water where it goes.

Put the water in my nose.

Spray the water like a hose.

35. Politics

Presidential

Irony

Lies

Instructive

(p)Tolemy

Indirect

Cacophony 

Superpowerful

34. Lice

In third grade I got lice. It wasn't the first time. It was the yearly, mandatory, school-wide check. They herded us all into the cafeteria and a bunch of old ladies with smelly rubber gloves on picked through our hair with a tongue depressors and combs. I'm sure they were very hygienic about and and used different sticks on each kid and changed gloves often, but I have to wonder if some of us got our lice from the kid before us.

They didn't tell us immediately that we had lice. Nope. They sent us all back to class, liceheads and cleanheads alike. Then I guess they called our parents because when I got home mom was ready for me. My older brother and sister (cleanheads both) were each given a cookie and sent outside to play. They didn't even have to finish their homework, first. Did I get a cookie? No. Did I get to go play outside? No. I got shepherded into the bathtub, stripped of my delicate privacy, and tossed into the scalding shower. It was as if she planned to boil the lice to death.

Then she took the sharpest comb ever made and created furrows in my scalp. It's a wonder the lice didn't think she was getting their field ready to harvest. For hours, I sat their, the victim to my mother's torturous devices - the comb of knives, the shampoo that stunk of skunks and cat litter, and the foaming rinse that burned like carbonated lava as it flowed down my back. 

Meanwhile, brother and sister had moved on to watching The Lion King (my absolute favorite movie, of course) with the toddler and the baby. 

When mom was finally convinced she could do no more on her quest to kill the insidious insects (and I was convinced I was going to be bald for the rest of my life), I thought I was free at last. But no. Life just isn't fair like that. That tiny, shimmering ray of hope was quashed when I tried to run out of the torture chamber to catch the last strains of Can You Feel The Love Tonight but was quickly and firmly blocked by the hulking form of dad. It wasn't safe for the baby for me to be near him with the lingering fumes of my new radioactive shampoo.

Are you kidding me, people? The injustice of it all! So while all of my siblings got to enjoy a delicious bag of buttery popcorn watchingthe mighty and heroic Simba defeat the evil Scar, I had toast. Why toast? Because dad couldn't stand the smell of my head long enough to supply me with real food. So I sat there. In the kitchen. By myself. Until bedtime.

The next day was worse. I woke up to go to school and was told I 'd have to stay home so I didn't spread the lice. Perfect! No school! I could watch movies and play with mom and make cookies! It was going to be awesome! But then, I had forgotten toddler and baby. After another session in the torture chamber before the drool bags woke up I spent the day in my room, working on a packet of make-up work my teacher had cleverly snuck into my backpack while I wasn't looking. It was like I was a prisoner in my own home. Mom finally released me during naptime. It was a glorious 20 minutes. Then toddler decided he hated me and refused to sleep any longer and so was banished to my cell once again. Another trip to the torture chamber that night ended with one very hysterical third-grader. 

Three days later I was declared "safe" again and released from my lowly life as a parasite's paradise.

The moral of the story is this: never play dress up with a girl who smells like pee.

33. Baby's greeting

Huge smile

Scrunched nose

Happy laugh

Kicking toes

32. They wait for me in Heaven

They wait for me in Heaven while I stay down here on Earth.

They wait for me in  Heaven. They've been waiting since my birth. 

They wait for me in Heaven and protect from up above.

They wait for me in Heaven. They'll embrace me with their love.