The Hunger Games disturbed me. I mean seriously, seriously disturbed me. It’s funny, twenty years ago I would have thought nothing of this at all. No biggie, just another story.
Having children really changes your outlook on things.
I’m disturbed. Deeply disturbed.
I can’t look at a book (or a movie) like this the same as I did when I was single. Isn’t it strange? I’m the same person, right?
Nope, I’m not. Motherhood definitely changes you. The thought of sending children out into the woods and forcing them to kill each other makes me sick to my stomach. Emotionally sick… You know what I mean?
I started the Hunger Games as a novel. My son finished the book in two days. (He finished all three books in five days total) I unfortunately, don’t have that kind of time to read, so I was only about 40 pages in to the novel before my son had to see the movie.
So we sat and watched it. That was three days ago, and I am just about over it. Now, I cannot finish the book, because I don’t want that sick feeling to come back. You know what I mean?
I might read just a little further just to “absorb” the writing style that I feel caught my son’s attention (although I don’t think I would want to write in this tense)
But I seriously don’t think I could go through the Hunger Games again.
Callous disregard for life… for children.
If the author meant to disturb people… good job.
Have you ever read anything that made you feel sick for days?
How did you feel after reading/watching the Hunger Games?
Setting the timer for five minutes. This is what I came up with.
The computers shut down, and the lights in the building go off for the night. The little pink monkey smiles. He unhooks his Velcro hand from the cubicle wall, and jumps to the desk. He scuttles around the keyboard, and swings over to the chair, using the legs to slide to the floor. A mouse runs across the carpet, and the little pink monkey hides behind a chair leg. He’d find a way to catch that varmint for Eric’s Mom. He knew it was driving her nuts. First, though, he needed to figure out how to get back on the desk, because the lights were coming back on. Did it really take that long just to get this far?
Omigosh… Did I just unintentionally start a middle-grade-like novel?
I’m not really liking this one, but it’s what I came up with when I set the timer. I guess I can expect some good and some so-so five-minute shorts.
I’m a grown woman, a corporate executive—with a pink monkey in her office. He hangs there from one arm, attached to my cubicle wall with a Velcro hand. He stares at me with those goofy eyes. He warms me inside.
Toys at work? How unprofessional.
I smile. It’s not just a toy. It never really was a toy to me at all. There is a heart embroidered on his belly, and he’s pink. My favorite color.
My son won a prize at school. “Pick anything you want.”
He saw that pink monkey, with a heart on its chest.
His mother’s favorite color.
He could have taken an airplane. He could have taken a super ball. But he picked up the pink monkey, and bought it home.
He gave it to me… for no reason.
“I love you Mommy.”
“I love you too, Baby.”
No, it’s not a toy.
The monkey stays.
Posted in Flash Fiction, Motherhood
Tagged Business, child's gift, Color preferences, love, monkey, Motherhood, Pink, pink monkey, present, Velcro
I’d like to take a short breather from the writing world just to talk about something simple.
My eight year old lost his first tooth last night. Big excitement in the Eaton household as the kids got ready for the arrival of the Tooth Fairy. My husband went to bed early, and Mommy tucked the kids in, and stayed up late working on her computer, as usual. No rest for the weary writer, or the mother of excited children.
I was thinking after I finally got to bed last night how good my husband has it, although I don’t think he looks at it that way. He’s a work from home Dad, which is really really hard. The great thing is though, that he gets to see the kids in the morning before they go to school. I miss that. Especially on mornings like this.
I wouldn’t get to talk to my son when he woke up, or see his excited face when he counted out his coins. I would miss it, like I missed his first steps.
I did get a little bonus, though. I stepped out of my room this morning ready to go to work, to find my son cuddled up asleep on the floor in the hallway outside his room. His right hand was resting on a pile of coins.
I still don’t know why he woke in the middle of the night, or why he was in the hallway. It bought a smile to my face though.
It’s the little things. He wasn’t awake, but I got to see him, and I know he was excited. Mommy really needed that.
Amendment: Omigosh! He lost another one at school today! He looks so goofy!