Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Something's broken...
We were living by the ocean, yet again. We've often found ourselves living near the beach - I suppose like most humans we are drawn to the freshness of the coastal air. I can take the beach or leave it - growing up in a landlocked country, going to the beach was never part of my day-to-day.
By Tyranna Black6 years ago in Families
I'm not actually asking if I'm being reasonable.
I didn't always want children. Like some women, when I was younger I decided I wasn't interested in having a family. Many woman don't change their minds, but I did. My hormones actually kicked in about 2 years before I changed my mind, then once my husband and I decided we would like to start a family, it was still well over a year before I came off the pill. Now I have a gorgeous baby boy. He is absolutely delightful and the light of my life, I wouldn't change having him for anything.
By Tyranna Black6 years ago in Families
In a nutshell.
When we had that argument a while ago, I had been frantically studying whenever I could for two weeks. I was not watching tv for 12 hours. I missed my weekly clean TWICE. So for two weeks the house got messy. So what did you do? You say we’re a team - you don’t think you might have asked what was up? Or done a bit of cleaning to help me out? Instead you save up all your anger to have a go at me. And not cleaning for a couple of weeks made me a bad wife? Are you for real? Did you hit your head and wake up in the 1950s? I’m home to look after our baby. I looked after him all day, on little sleep, ferried him around and fed him and did his bedtime and bath time routine. So it’s not like I wasn’t doing anything. When I clean it’s because I want to, not because I have to. And you think that’s a good excuse for what you said around the campfire? Telling your country friends that on my occasional overnight city trip you make a point of doing as much as you can so you can show me how it's done.
By Tyranna Black6 years ago in Families
Mr. Mayor of the Town
One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying a child, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick hoar of dust which had accumulated on their shoes and garments from an obviously long journey lent a disadvantageous shabbiness to their appearance just now.
By Puti Jhyau6 years ago in Families
My Uncle's Scheme
My father was a major in the army who, at the time this story begins, had lived in Longueville-sur-mer for fifteen years, to which place he had come, after my mother’s death, bringing me with him. I was then seven years old. He put me to a good school in the neighbourhood, at which I remained until I was sixteen; and was then let free. Considering myself a man, I worked hard to grow a mustache, in which I very ignominiously failed; for it was not until I was one-and-twenty that nature condescended to favour me with that very elegant and martial decoration. I also took to colouring meerschaum pipes, in which art, before I was nineteen, I was considered by my companions to excel, though I did not succeed in establishing my reputation in that line until I had dealt such an injury to my nervous system as I fear I shall never recover. I also became, before long, an expert hand at billiards, though up to the last Bob Le Marchmont could always give me twenty points and beat me comfortably. But I was his better at whist, and was indeed a match for several grave old gentlemen who were members of our English Club in the Rue des Chiens.
By Puti Jhyau6 years ago in Families
The Betty in Me
I cut my bangs with some rusty kitchen scissors; I screamed his name 'til the neighbors called the cops. I numbed the pain at the expense of my liver, don't know what I did next - all I know, I couldn't stop. Word got around to the barflies and the Baptists. My Mama's phone started ringing off the hook. I can hear her now saying she ain't gonna have it, "Don't matter how you feel, it only matters how you look! Go and fix your makeup, girl, it's just a breakup, run and hide your crazy and start actin' like a lady. Cause I raised you better, you gotta keep it together, even when you fall apart. Powder your nose, paint your toes, line your lips and keep them closed!" – Miranda Lambert
By Dejaye Botkin6 years ago in Families
Fathers love is no less
As a child I didn't see much of my father I wasn't good enough to keep around or I was unwanted, or at least this is what I was told. As a mother, I couldn't help but take the time to watch my kids grow and play with their father and wonder how a person, a father, or mother could send their daughter to another to raise let across seas. Yes, you read this right across seas. I was the daughter of a woman who loved me greatly but also the daughter to a father who didn't want a girl, so I was packed up and sent to my grandmother at the young age of four years old, who lived in beautiful London, England.
By JESSICA HICKS6 years ago in Families
