immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
The Bum, Roger
School was three miles from Kal’s home. He always woke up at six-thirty when dad would come in, before leaving for work to rip his covers off. If Kal didn’t quickly rise out of bed, then the pillow would be stolen as well. Kal hated mornings and just as soon as Dad left, he’d go right back to bed. Usually he couldn’t fall back asleep, but the mere act of defiance made it worth it. Then, around seven-thirty Kal would eat a bowl of cereal, usually fruit loops, and he’d be off. These winter months were frigid in the mornings, even in California. Today it was well below freezing. Kal put on his winter gloves, the same navy blue ones he’d always wear snowboarding along with a beanie and hoodie. The ride took only fifteen minutes, but that was enough for the cold mornings to turn his cheeks red and make him sweat. The first hour in class was always the worst. His cheeks would be red and he could feel the kids staring at him. At the beginning of this third grade year, Miss McNeil had pulled him aside to ask if he had ridden his bike to school in the rain. The concern was written on her face. Kal lied, the way an embarrassed child does. ‘No, my parents dropped me off with my bike.’ Miss McNeil allowed Kal to save face, but called home that night to inquire. She’d never know, but Kal endured one of his fathers worst yelling bouts that night because of her. After that day Kal began locking his bike at the Walmart opposite his school.
By Raisin Brazon5 years ago in Families
No Sugar Added
One of the first memories I have of my childhood is being told how pretty I was. "All the boys will be after her", family and friends would tell my dad. To which he would laugh and agree. I grew up during the age of Britney Spears. Body fat was the devil and although your worth wasn't based solely on that, let’s just say if you were fat that you better be funny too. I remember having a panic attack in 2nd or 3rd grade because I did not like how I looked before attending my own birthday party. I couldn't stomach my own stomach at the age of 8 and therefore stayed home from my own birthday party.
By Isabel Manning5 years ago in Families
On Frozen Pond
On Frozen Pond By Lawrence Townsend Vose Fishing season doesn't end for Jonny. It also has no beginning. You see... Jonny lives in a hussle bussle world where everything is moving so fast. Where no one will notice a young boy off to the side of the road fishing. In a tiny little pond that should in NO WAY even contain fish. But while skimming stones across the pond after the winter thaw. Jonny noticed some small fish feeding close to shore. So when Jonny went to Walmart with his dad one day. He spotted a Zebco 202 fishing pole ready to go and asked his dad to buy it for him. His dad agreed. It came with extra hooks, sinkers and bobbas.
By Lawrence Vose5 years ago in Families
Saved By a Thread
I am the seventh of eight children, born of generations of talented creatives. Mind you, for the generations that came before me, it was a chore. Just as it was necessary to cook and clean, making clothes, blankets and toys for children was the easiest and most affordable way to ensure that the family had quality items that would last. The women before me strove for perfection and took pride when their family made use of their creations.
By Analise Dionn5 years ago in Families
Pirates Ahead. Top Story - July 2021.
My grandfather was right about many things. He called the World Series winners many years in a row, how we’d put a man on the moon, Nixon – he knew things, or he was an excellent guesser. His 86 years of experience included both good things and bad, the good things being what he shared with his grandkids. Besides his love of chess, he loved making us laugh. He would take us into his lap and point to his mustache. We’d go to touch it, and he’d pretend to bite our fingers. My father did that, too, come to think of it. We’d break out into a fit of giggles.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Families
For Sarah
As a child I never got a chance to stick to my hobbies. For my family it was far more important to have good grades at school than having hobbies, so I never had the time to explore nor to perfect what I thought I was good at. So, as an adult I tried a little bit of everything to figure out what I liked and most importantly to see which hobby could help me heal my childhood traumas, my anxiety and my depression. Singing, gymnastics and dancing, none of those helped. I felt like I lost my passion to explore new things, I felt like I lost my motivation. I was basically a living dead, just working, watching tv and waiting for the weekend to arrive, you know, I was being like any other normal adult on this planet.
By Argelia Castro5 years ago in Families
The Hat
“Get this, Janice: according to the book Amos gave me for Mother’s Day, a five-gallon bucket with a bunch of holes drilled in it can be used to keep crabs alive during the time from catching them to getting them into your cook pot. I mean, didn’t you always wonder how to keep crabs alive between the boat and the stovetop? A book about catching crabs! For Mother’s Day! I haven’t actually read the book, mind you, I just noticed that little fun fact about the bucket when I was leafing through it. You know, to be polite. And, Janice, he was so excited for me to open it…I mean, when he handed me the package, I knew there was a book inside, you know how you can always tell when it’s a book. But he was all nervous and squirmy, like he was proposing to me or something. Honestly! What on earth would possess him to give me a book like that, I ask you? We live in Denver, for heaven’s sake, not a fresh crab in sight for at least two thousand miles, probably more. I mean, what was he thinking? I guess it’s just one of those throwback moments to his childhood in Mississippi. Crabs! Mother Mary, I’ve never been so surprised in my life, not even when he did propose to me! But going crabbing with his granddad was one of his favorite things to do as a kid, to get him out of the house for a couple of days here and there, and away from that awful daddy of his.”
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Families
One Way Communicators
We all have someone, or several someones, in our lives that are one way communicators. They readily reach out to you when they need something. The rest of the time they disappear into the abyss of their own lives. "I've been busy they say." But you know what that really means is "I haven't needed you for anything."
By Pam Reeder5 years ago in Families
Following Matt's Recipe
I had to be home on Saturday evenings. No matter what I planned for myself, no matter where I was invited. On Saturday evenings, I had to be in the house. I never understood why, though. Neither one of my adoptive parents paid me any mind. I was an afterthought at best, and it had been that way since they realized I was a girl. The adoption papers were mixed up, and the Millers believed they were getting a boy. Darien and Joshua Miller lost their son two years ago in a "wire accident," they always said. I never pushed for the full story because I knew I'd never get it.
By Kawan Glover5 years ago in Families
