Category Archives: Slice of Life

March 7 Saul Goodman

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

I did the few dishes that were in the sink just now, looked up at my window and didn’t startle at the face looking back at me: Saul Goodman

I didn’t startle because I watched my 16 year old put that cutout of his art work up there.

In fact, I watched him cut it out on the way to dinner. He had laminated it with strips of packing tape, leaning against the dashboard.

It’s not exactly the art I used to have all over when the kids were little. It’s not exactly the decor I’m looking for in my kitchen. But, I left it up in the window frame. I live with teenage boys and I’m kind of used to nonsense. I mean, a million pairs of socks have been discarded in random spots.We laugh a lot, though, which makes it worth it.

So tonight I’m finding Breaking Bad character art — I think I noticed Walter White on my nightstand…

March 6 The Trash Truck

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

I looked out the front door window this afternoon and saw the trash truck up the street. It looked just like the toy we used to have.

The trash truck was an event when the kids were little.

“The trash truck is coming!” I’d say, and little feet would come running. In the summer we would sit on the porch steps watching it.

But today I didn’t even think to announce it.

I’m pretty sure if I had, nobody would have cared.

Sad, but also . . . My 16 year old was down in the basement fixing a door and installing a new lock.

So, there’s an upside to all this growing up my kids have the audacity to do.

March 5 Projects

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

My mom measured and marked giant pieces of cork today, and then drew straight lines before cutting with a small blade.

We’re working on my basement, but I kept thinking back to when I was in elementary and middle school and got big projects. My mom would measure and mark and help me make the lines straight. She’d also help me plan, draw and execute the best school projects.

Do you remember book reports? Research projects you did mostly at home? What was all that homework all about? I don’t know – but I do know that one year of elementary school I did my whole report on a scroll of paper that we then installed in a cardboard box. The box had a large square cut out of it, and was decorated like a TV. To view the report, you twisted a dowel rod to scroll the paper past the whole.

Man, I wish I had that Cardboard box TV report to look at one more time!

I might not have any of my old projects from school, but, 35+ years later, I still have my mom and dad helping me with new projects! How lucky is that?

March 4 My Dream Has Come True

I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

“I want to do some writing today.”

Apparently my son isn’t getting as much done as he wants on his story he’s writing in school.

I had a quick idea. I didn’t think it would work. I said, “Well…where do you want to do your writing? Do you want to write here, or do you want to like go to a cafe or something?”

Knowing that usually my ideas are not my 13 year-old’s favorite, I waited with bated breath.

“That sounds fun,” he cautiously said. “We could go to Barnes and Noble, and then we could maybe look at books too.”

Score!

We packed our bags, dropped my 16 year-old off at work, and drove to Barnes and Noble.

(Bonus point for me: Before I could forget, I dropped off the 5 goodwill bags that have been in my van for a week since Goodwill is next to Barnes and Noble!)

With our bags slung on our shoulders, we walked through the store to find a table. A toy played “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.”

Like the embarrassing mother of teenagers that I am, I clapped my hands. Lightly.

My son smiled and said a little sarcastically, “Are you happy?”

And just as I thought it, he said it. “Is this your dream come true?”

March 3 Dreamy

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

When I woke up this morning, I was already hours late for work. We had driven and driven, but I could not get to school.
I had also burned a bunch of bagels for my daughter and her friends in some big old house I’ve never seen before. There was an unsuccessful search for vegan cream cheese at a very strange Walmart.

I’m not going to look that up in a dream dictionary. I am going to blame the dream for my all day headache, the jelly I somehow spilled on my hair this morning, and the fact that the dog woke up early and I had to take him out when it was still dark.

Shoot. I actually did look up dreaming of bagels. Did you know this was a thing? Especially the cream cheese part. Wild.

“…An unfilled cream cheese bagel symbolizes the absence of an essential component of one’s life.” That’s what this website says anyway.

Do you look up your dreams? Do you remember your dreams? I find them fascinating.

March 2 A Slice of Waking Up

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

I want to know how my cats know it’s 5:42, and also why they can’t just wait 3 minutes for my alarm to wake me up.

Maybe they know I’ll hit snooze.

But, I can’t snooze Theodore. He’s the fluffiest cat I’ve ever known, and usually the chillest too. But, like clockwork he jumps on my nightstand and starts swatting things off of it to wake me up. It is almost always at 5:42. It’s not really my favorite way to wake up, hearing my books hit the floor. This morning I noticed the spray bottle I had set out to try to stop this situation was also on the floor. Well, that strategy won’t work I guess.

The cats pace around until I get up and then then chase each other down the steps, ready for breakfast. It’s actually super cute, or would be if it weren’t 5:45 in the morning.

If they are this smart, I could probably teach them to press “Brew Now” on my coffee maker.

This morning they were heartbroken. I forgot to set up the coffee maker last night, so before I fed them, I had to get the coffee started. Luckily they get over the sting of betrayal much faster that I do, and they were able to enjoy their breakfast.

Just like every morning, Clyde kept me company while I drank my coffee. Although, I think he was wondering why my hands were busy writing instead of petting him.

March 1 A Teacher Like You

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.

I’ve been spending time in third grade lately. We’ve been writing up a storm in our notebooks. They are filled with our thinking work: words and sentences, claims and reasons, taped in pieces of evidence, to-do lists… They are a beautiful mess!

Today, the teacher started by reading Abdul’s Story by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow and the kids were rapt with attention. So was I.

In this story, Abdul loves to write, but struggles too. (So do I.)

But then a published author comes to his classroom, sees how upset Abdul is about his messy work and says, “I want to show you my notebook.”

This is one of those picture books that cause watering eyes and a tingling nose.

Of course, the author’s notebook is messy. Writing is messy. Abdul is a writer!

The story is sad before it’s uplifting, and when Abdul was having a particularly hard time with his writing, the boy sitting in front of me couldn’t hold in his comment.

“That’s where he needs YOU as a teacher!” He shouted out to his teacher.

That might have been when my eyes started to water and my nose started to tingle. It was just so sweet, so perfect. I must have made a sound like, “Awe.”

He turned around, eyes big. I think for some reason he felt bad that he didn’t include me. It wasn’t necessary but it was nice when he added with a smile, “Or you!”

Magic Poetry Slice

Part of Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers

The live Verizon agent wants me to
allow them
a
moment

they want to know
“how your day going has been so far.”

Oh, Live Agent
Let me speak to you in poetry
instead of expletives
Maybe poetry is the
magic
my phone bill needs. . .

How my day going has been so far —

My dog chewed something he found in the trash
again
My dog keeps trying to sneak upstairs
again
My cat is trying to steal the onions
again
This is how my day going has been so far

From my couch, I can see the laundry
I folded it
last week
and the bills I just paid
bills!
I should be working
This is how my day going has been so far

I am once again on my phone with
yet another live chat agent
This is how my day going has been so far

There have been so many
lies
on these live chats
I have renamed them,
Lie chats
This is how my day going has been so far

This Verizon Agent
Oh, this Verizon agent
is trying their best

I appreciate them
doing their job
but I might throw my phone across the room
anyway

“You’re like family to Verizon and we can’t let you unhappy at any point.”
This agent tells me

And maybe this poem
is magic
because this Verizon agent
My favorite one so far
Assures me that they will take care of it for me

There is hope
The sun is going down
My dog is resting
and my favorite Verizon agent signed off
“Your appreciate is my trophy,” they tell me

It’s like they know I’m writing poetry

I can’t write

Part of Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers

this is boring
and I don’t expect you
to read it

writer’s block
must mean I’m actually
a writer

even my journal
the self-love guided one
is closed

oh, I was gonna write
but then the cat fight happened
woke up the dog

now every line
is interrupted by my shouting
FINN STOP IT

he can’t stop
the cat food is just sitting there
calling his name

even at 6 am
there are too many distractions
around me

easy roadblocks
around me but also in my head
I am a distraction

this is why
I can’t write anymore
damnit

15 minutes in Synagogue

This woman is walking in late and chooses our aisle to sit in. We scrunch and stand and let her by.

I’ve been to this synagogue only once before, and the Bat Mitzvah is beautiful!

So what if she decides to sit right next to me, even though there’s a whole aisle to choose from.

“This is so nice,” she loudly whispers to me and adds, “I’m looking for my friend.” I wonder what wins with politeness: responding to the stranger talking to you during the service at a synagogue, or being quiet so you can pay attention to the service.

I decide to nod as kindly as I can, with a smile.

I’m trying to ignore her as she checks her phone, and sends an email. But then she starts loudly whispering again.

“Is this where they will have the baby naming too?”

I want to tell her that even though it’s my best friend’s daughter up there, and I have been here before, I still don’t know enough about this service to answer the question. But I realize that is a little long-winded.

I shrug my shoulders and say, “I’m actually from out of town. I’m not sure. Did you check the program?”

She nods and says she did. “I’m looking for my friend,” she repeats as she searches the room.

I turn my attention back to the prayers.

“Oh! There she is! But where’s the baby?” The woman whisper-exclaims.

That’s when she starts waving to try to get her friends attention.

The room is praying and she is waving and then her phone rings. She works to turn her phone off for a few seconds, and finally feels successful.

Only I notice that instead of turning the phone off, she has accidentally answered it.

My 16 year-old who has been trying to make sure he does all the things he’s supposed to do from turning off his phone to the sitting and the standing and the opening the book to the proper page, and turning the page in the correct direction finally widens his eyes a bit so only I can see.

I’m not actually sure what I should do. I look over at my son with my face scrunched and my eyes wide for just a second. I don’t want to talk during the praying, and I don’t want to embarrass the woman. So I just decide that the person who called her will either hang up or I guess, start praying.

A few minutes later the woman whispers again to tell me that it is her friend being celebrated. And then she decides she wants to go sit next to her friend.

So we scrunch and stand as she makes her way out of the aisle.

I look at my son, we take a deep breath, and we continue to watch my friends daughter as she does an amazing job leading prayers and speaking to us all.