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October 4, 2005

Michele: Point. Not. Point. Not.

He had to make the bus, or he’d once again be embarrassed by his mother walking him to school in one of her homemade floral housecoats, pins and needles from her latest sewing experiment stuck in the sleeves.

He forgot his lunch. His mother, all blubber and daisies, came running after the bus, Frankie’s lunch in one hand, sewing scissors in the other, her arm fat flapflapflapping as she ran.

The bus pulled away just as Frankie’s mother tripped and fell hard onto the point of the scissors.

“Don’t run with scissors, ma.” Frankie whispered as the bus turned the corner.

*title is an inside joke with myself, though one out of hundreds may understand it.

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Comments

Meaning! Point!NOT!Point!NOT! Watch the Beat!

Posted by: Chris at October 6, 2005 10:53 PM · Permalink

YES!!!

Posted by: michele at October 7, 2005 2:08 AM · Permalink