| Humor Flash Fiction posted March 30, 2020 |
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When your mind rambles at sunrise.
Leftover Birthday Cake
by papa55mike
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The first rays of the morning sun peek through our bedroom window. My wife, Tammy, changes position when I quietly roll out of bed. I creep to the kitchen with my eyes barely open and avoiding the clock. Today is Saturday, with no work, and no deadlines. The rich aroma of strong coffee stirs my mind walking into the kitchen.
Slowly, I pour a cup then embrace the warmth in my hand. That's when I see the leftover birthday cake on the table. I hit the big Three-O yesterday. What a wonderfully rowdy party we had last night. My wife decorated the cake to look like dirt with brown icing, crumbled Oreos, and strips of chocolate for toppings. The black balloons and streamers still hang throughout the house, which I thought was a nice touch. According to everyone, I have one foot in a grave and the other on a banana peel.
The best thing about the party was that Lyle, Tammy's brother, left his pants on. There's one in every family.
The cake was delicious. A rich devil's food with milk chocolate frosting, and you can't go wrong by putting crumbled Oreos on anything. I think a few bites won't hurt me this morning. I grab a clean fork and begin to plot out the best piece.
After three decadent bites and some coffee to wash it down, my mind begins to ramble.
For some reason, the evil vacuum cleaner comes to the forefront.
I can feel its presence through the closet door, looking at me right now. It waits for me with its gnarled cord, thumping beater brush, and battered chassis.
My body fills with dread every time I plug it up. It devours toys, nails, staples, and rug corners at a terrifying rate. Last week, it got the cat's tail. Well, I helped a little. Petie flashed that tail in front of me, one too many times! I had a hard time making that accident lie stick.
Another bite of this chocolate heaven and Izzy's beautiful face pops up. The other day, I asked her. "Who loves you, Izzy?" Afterward, I brushed her blonde curls out of her eyes.
"Well, Mama does, Poppy and Granny do, Jack does, my teacher, my friends at school, and Jesus."
"Did you forget anybody?"
"No!" Izzy answered so confidently.
"What about me?" I'm feeling left out.
"Oh, daddy. Of course, you love me."
I didn't feel too high on anybody's list after that.
After another big bite of chocolate deliciousness, I need another cup of coffee to wash it down.
Various little thoughts begin to pepper my brain - like when I fell up the steps and in the back door - landing face-first on the floor but didn't spill my coffee.
The other day, I searched the whole house for my glasses while they were on top of my head. Then, I sat in the car and searched every pocket for the keys after I'd put them in the ignition switch.
Two more bites of cake and a half a cup later, my son Jack drifts in.
He's a fascinating subject. Jack doesn't like the same things most boys do; that's Izzy's delight. She loves to collect Rollies-pollies and worms where Jack is terrified of them, and Izzy knows it.
Last Saturday, I was watching her with an old bowl collecting her morning supply of pillbugs and earthworms. Jack was running his cars in the sandbox. Izzy had already shown me a large nightcrawler she found.
You can read Izzy's face like a book, and suddenly her evil grin appeared. She snuck up behind him then stuck that nightcrawler right in Jack's face. He screamed like a little girl, threw his truck in the sand, and started running around the yard. It was hysterical, watching a seven-year-old girl chasing a screaming nine-year-old boy around the yard with a worm. I was laughing so hard, all I could do is holler, "Get him, Izzy!"
My sugar and coffee buzz has me tingling. I hear movement in the bedroom while I finish my second cup. Tammy comes in when I take my last bite of cake. She takes the fork from my hand and gets a large portion and crams it in her mouth.
After a chocolate good morning kiss, she asks, "Did you have a good early morning?"
"Yes, I did."
The first rays of the morning sun peek through our bedroom window. My wife, Tammy, changes position when I quietly roll out of bed. I creep to the kitchen with my eyes barely open and avoiding the clock. Today is Saturday, with no work, and no deadlines. The rich aroma of strong coffee stirs my mind walking into the kitchen.
Slowly, I pour a cup then embrace the warmth in my hand. That's when I see the leftover birthday cake on the table. I hit the big Three-O yesterday. What a wonderfully rowdy party we had last night. My wife decorated the cake to look like dirt with brown icing, crumbled Oreos, and strips of chocolate for toppings. The black balloons and streamers still hang throughout the house, which I thought was a nice touch. According to everyone, I have one foot in a grave and the other on a banana peel.
The best thing about the party was that Lyle, Tammy's brother, left his pants on. There's one in every family.
The cake was delicious. A rich devil's food with milk chocolate frosting, and you can't go wrong by putting crumbled Oreos on anything. I think a few bites won't hurt me this morning. I grab a clean fork and begin to plot out the best piece.
After three decadent bites and some coffee to wash it down, my mind begins to ramble.
For some reason, the evil vacuum cleaner comes to the forefront.
I can feel its presence through the closet door, looking at me right now. It waits for me with its gnarled cord, thumping beater brush, and battered chassis.
My body fills with dread every time I plug it up. It devours toys, nails, staples, and rug corners at a terrifying rate. Last week, it got the cat's tail. Well, I helped a little. Petie flashed that tail in front of me, one too many times! I had a hard time making that accident lie stick.
Another bite of this chocolate heaven and Izzy's beautiful face pops up. The other day, I asked her. "Who loves you, Izzy?" Afterward, I brushed her blonde curls out of her eyes.
"Well, Mama does, Poppy and Granny do, Jack does, my teacher, my friends at school, and Jesus."
"Did you forget anybody?"
"No!" Izzy answered so confidently.
"What about me?" I'm feeling left out.
"Oh, daddy. Of course, you love me."
I didn't feel too high on anybody's list after that.
After another big bite of chocolate deliciousness, I need another cup of coffee to wash it down.
Various little thoughts begin to pepper my brain - like when I fell up the steps and in the back door - landing face-first on the floor but didn't spill my coffee.
The other day, I searched the whole house for my glasses while they were on top of my head. Then, I sat in the car and searched every pocket for the keys after I'd put them in the ignition switch.
Two more bites of cake and a half a cup later, my son Jack drifts in.
He's a fascinating subject. Jack doesn't like the same things most boys do; that's Izzy's delight. She loves to collect Rollies-pollies and worms where Jack is terrified of them, and Izzy knows it.
Last Saturday, I was watching her with an old bowl collecting her morning supply of pillbugs and earthworms. Jack was running his cars in the sandbox. Izzy had already shown me a large nightcrawler she found.
You can read Izzy's face like a book, and suddenly her evil grin appeared. She snuck up behind him then stuck that nightcrawler right in Jack's face. He screamed like a little girl, threw his truck in the sand, and started running around the yard. It was hysterical, watching a seven-year-old girl chasing a screaming nine-year-old boy around the yard with a worm. I was laughing so hard, all I could do is holler, "Get him, Izzy!"
My sugar and coffee buzz has me tingling. I hear movement in the bedroom while I finish my second cup. Tammy comes in when I take my last bite of cake. She takes the fork from my hand and gets a large portion and crams it in her mouth.
After a chocolate good morning kiss, she asks, "Did you have a good early morning?"
"Yes, I did."
Slowly, I pour a cup then embrace the warmth in my hand. That's when I see the leftover birthday cake on the table. I hit the big Three-O yesterday. What a wonderfully rowdy party we had last night. My wife decorated the cake to look like dirt with brown icing, crumbled Oreos, and strips of chocolate for toppings. The black balloons and streamers still hang throughout the house, which I thought was a nice touch. According to everyone, I have one foot in a grave and the other on a banana peel.
The best thing about the party was that Lyle, Tammy's brother, left his pants on. There's one in every family.
The cake was delicious. A rich devil's food with milk chocolate frosting, and you can't go wrong by putting crumbled Oreos on anything. I think a few bites won't hurt me this morning. I grab a clean fork and begin to plot out the best piece.
After three decadent bites and some coffee to wash it down, my mind begins to ramble.
For some reason, the evil vacuum cleaner comes to the forefront.
I can feel its presence through the closet door, looking at me right now. It waits for me with its gnarled cord, thumping beater brush, and battered chassis.
My body fills with dread every time I plug it up. It devours toys, nails, staples, and rug corners at a terrifying rate. Last week, it got the cat's tail. Well, I helped a little. Petie flashed that tail in front of me, one too many times! I had a hard time making that accident lie stick.
Another bite of this chocolate heaven and Izzy's beautiful face pops up. The other day, I asked her. "Who loves you, Izzy?" Afterward, I brushed her blonde curls out of her eyes.
"Well, Mama does, Poppy and Granny do, Jack does, my teacher, my friends at school, and Jesus."
"Did you forget anybody?"
"No!" Izzy answered so confidently.
"What about me?" I'm feeling left out.
"Oh, daddy. Of course, you love me."
I didn't feel too high on anybody's list after that.
After another big bite of chocolate deliciousness, I need another cup of coffee to wash it down.
Various little thoughts begin to pepper my brain - like when I fell up the steps and in the back door - landing face-first on the floor but didn't spill my coffee.
The other day, I searched the whole house for my glasses while they were on top of my head. Then, I sat in the car and searched every pocket for the keys after I'd put them in the ignition switch.
Two more bites of cake and a half a cup later, my son Jack drifts in.
He's a fascinating subject. Jack doesn't like the same things most boys do; that's Izzy's delight. She loves to collect Rollies-pollies and worms where Jack is terrified of them, and Izzy knows it.
Last Saturday, I was watching her with an old bowl collecting her morning supply of pillbugs and earthworms. Jack was running his cars in the sandbox. Izzy had already shown me a large nightcrawler she found.
You can read Izzy's face like a book, and suddenly her evil grin appeared. She snuck up behind him then stuck that nightcrawler right in Jack's face. He screamed like a little girl, threw his truck in the sand, and started running around the yard. It was hysterical, watching a seven-year-old girl chasing a screaming nine-year-old boy around the yard with a worm. I was laughing so hard, all I could do is holler, "Get him, Izzy!"
My sugar and coffee buzz has me tingling. I hear movement in the bedroom while I finish my second cup. Tammy comes in when I take my last bite of cake. She takes the fork from my hand and gets a large portion and crams it in her mouth.
After a chocolate good morning kiss, she asks, "Did you have a good early morning?"
"Yes, I did."
 Recognized |
I'm trying to write a few funny, hopeful, and encouraging stories. I think we've all had enough fear.
Pillbugs are we call Rollie-pollies.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Pillbugs are we call Rollie-pollies.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
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