Trust (an acrostic poem)

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The money wasn’t everything. Okay, who was he trying to fool.

Really it was all about the money, but he didn’t have to admit it.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have to work a day in his life.

Such was the life of a fund baby. all thanks to grandma.

That was before he put his faith in his lawyer and that prenup agreement.

Fatherhood In These Modern Times (a 150 word story)

The simple sound of a baby crying pierced the night, causing Bob to bleed from his stubbed toe as he became the first responder.  The little bundle of joy was empty of joy, and thus the alarm was going off, but Bob couldn’t find the off switch, even after changing the wet encasing.  He tried moving it around to activate the snooze, but that didn’t work either.  Soon he decided that the alarm was a low energy notice.  He plugged the baby into the recharging device and watched the fluid level on the device drain to zero.  The recharge worked, as the baby went back into low power sleep mode.  Bob thought about putting the baby where it belonged but worried that the jostling alarm had been reset, and he was worried about setting it off.  Instead, he closed his eyes and snuggled the sleeping baby close to his heart.

 

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Aftermath (an acrostic poem) Part 3

After the Max’s trial, Cindy felt vindicated

Finally life could get back to normal

That normal of course would include a baby

Everything up till this moment had been focused on getting back at Max

Reality of what was next was now settling in

Motherhood with the father locked out of their life

Alyssa had volunteered to help, something about how Cindy had saved her

That had confused Cindy, but she was thankful for the company

Her baby kicked her, reminding Cindy that it was time for life to go on

Daughter (an acrostic poem)

Dad lost his heart that first time he held you
As you cried insistently in his arms
Under the hospital’s bright lights
Growing up he watches you and marvels
Here was the baby that needed everything
There is the young woman who claims to know everything
Entering her time to solo on the world’s stage
Remembering the first time he held you

Happy Day (an Acrostic Poem)

Being there when you came into this world

I remember thinking how tiny you were

Red and screaming about being rudely ripped from your motherly home

The planet has come full circle around our star

Here I am encircled around your little finger

Day after day I watch your amazing metamorphosis

As you grow up so very fast

Yet you will always be my baby girl

Imagination Boost

Mark looked at his ideas document and wondered again why he had such a bounty of ideas and so little written.  Then he heard Linda’s cry through the baby monitor and he remembered.  As the crying grew louder and more insistent, Mark closed the document.  Nothing was going to get done tonight, but then again nothing had been done for like two weeks now.  Still he pushed away from his desk and headed upstairs.  While the worlds in his imagination would wait for him, Linda wasn’t.  Besides, Mark had read lack of sleep helped with creativity.  He was going to be so creative for the next couple of years, it might kill him.

Mistaken Identity part 2

John shimmied on the chaise to get comfortable.  “My father had had a heart attack.  He was at St. Bonaventure, so I decided to visit him,” he said.

“Okay, so what does this have to do with babies?” asked Sarah.

“Well, I’m getting there Doc.  You’ve got to understand.  I hate hospitals,” John said.

“It is perfectly normal to feel that way, John.  It is a very common emotion,” Sarah said.  “A lot of people don’t like to be reminded that they are one step away from a life changing illness or accident.”

“That’s not exactly my problem Doc.  Let me finish my story,” he said.

“Go right on ahead,” Sarah said.  “Tell me your story.”


John entered the hospital with trepidation, carrying a small flowering plant of some kind and a bright yellow metallic helium balloon reading “Get Well Soon”.  The security guard at the entrance smiled and waved.  John waved back, but focused his attention down the hallway toward the elevators.  He was about to make a sprint walk for them when a young man grabbed his arm.

“Doctor, you’ve got to help me,” the young man said.  “My wife is in labor.”

John looked to the security guard for help.  The guard was already picking up the phone and dialing.  John felt a bit relieved that help was on the way.  He turned to the young man and said, “You’ve got the wrong guy.  I’m sure someone-“

The young man interrupted John.  “I know you’re not her doctor, but she needs someone now.”

The guard put down the phone and gave John a thumbs up.  “I called maternity and told them you were on the way with the mom to be.  I’ll go grab the wheelchair.”

John let go of the balloon and watched it drift to the ceiling.  He handed the plant to the young man.  “Let’s go get your wife,” John said.


Sarah stopped writing and looked at John incredulously.  “Okay, wait.  So you impersonated a doctor?  Do you realize how much trouble you could get into?” asked Sarah.

John rolled onto his side so he could look at her.  “Well I figured that unless I did something the poor woman was going to have the baby in the car because no one else was coming,” he said.

“Carmine, don’t you think you’re pushing the truth just a little here?” asked Sarah.

“I’m John,” he said.

“Sorry.  I don’t know why I keep making that mistake,” Sarah said.

John laid back onto the chaise.  “That’s why I’m here,” he said in a soft voice.  “That’s why I’m telling you this story.”

“Okay.  Let’s see where this goes.  Please continue,” Sarah said.


John, the young man, and the security guard rushed out of the hospital and into the cool night.  A young and very pregnant woman was sitting in a Honda Civic with the passenger door open.  Her eyes were clenched shut and her breathing was rapid and shallow.  John and the young man danced around each other like two of the Marx brothers, trying to figure out how to help the pregnant woman get out of the car.  Finally her contraction passed, and she was able to lever herself out of the vehicle without either man’s help.  The security guard held the wheelchair steady as John and the young man were able to maneuver the pregnant woman into it.  She managed to sit before the next contraction hit.

John had watched enough television to know that having contractions that close to each other meant the baby has almost there.  He patted her shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  Woman have been doing this since the beginning of time.  I’m sure this will be simple.”

“We’re having twins,” replied the young man.

John felt like he had got slapped across the face.  When he came to he looked to the security guard.  “You heard the man,” John said.  “She’s about to have twins.  Let’s go!”

The security guard took off at a fast walk.  John looked like he was about to run the opposite direction, but then he caught sight of the young man looking at him with desperation, so he followed the guard inside.  The guard swiped his badge at the elevator and the lift came immediately.  The four of them piled into the elevator and the guard hit the button for the eighth floor.  As the elevator ascended, an awkward silence descended on the three men.  The pregnant woman didn’t care as she dealt with her contraction.

Finally the doors opened and two nurses hurried to rescue the pregnant woman from the three men.  The young man slapped John on the back and headed after his wife who was being pushed by one of the nurses.  The second nurse looked back at John.  “Well are you coming Doctor Crane?” she asked.

John looked at the security guard, but the security guard just gave him a thumbs up.  John shook his head and walked off the elevator.  “She’s having twins,” John said.

The nurse fell in beside John, following the retreating wheel chair.  “Then I guess we’re playing a double header tonight,” the nurse said.

John paused mid step, then laughed.  “That’s a good one,” he said.

“Are you okay Doctor Crane?” asked the nurse.

John nodded.  “Let’s go play ball,” he said.


Sarah stopped him there.   “So you are telling me you delivered twins?” she asked.

“Well, it was twins, so they called in another doctor to assist me,” John said.

“Assist?” Sarah asked as she kept writing.

John tried to ignore the question, but when Sarah refused to say more for a minute, John filled in the silence.  “Okay, so she did the actual delivery, but the babies were so cute.”


John held a baby in each arm.  The proud mother and father beamed with happiness.  John smiled down at the little ones.  “They’re perfect,” he said to the new parents.  Just then both babies began to cry and looked like they were looking for John’s nipples.  “Oh no, not again,” he said.  He quickly gave the babies back to their mother.  “You feed them.”


 

Sarah shook her head in disbelief, but continued to write.  John laughs.  “That ended much better than before,” he said.

“Did you ever get to visit your father?” Sarah asked.

That stopped John from laughing. “I did.  I even got to deliver my plant.  The balloon stayed in the lobby though,” John said.

“Do you regret that decision?” asked Sarah.

John paused in thought.  “I was close to my dad,” John said.  “He was always there for me.”

“What does that have to do with the balloon?” asked Sarah.

“That is a good question,” said John.

100 Word Story #8 Pressure Bomb

Time was not on Bruce’s side.  The bomb could go off any minute.  He tried to go over his training.  Keep it simple.  Use your checklist.  Don’t panic.  The bomb is able to sense your panic.

Bruce blanked on the checklist.  He knew it just moments ago.  How much time did he have left?  Was he starting to panic?  Maybe he could move it to a new location.  Bruce nervously picked up the bomb.

Warning sirens sprang up.  Come on, think.  That’s when it hit him, change the diaper, feed, then burp.  Too bad the baby had exploded into screaming.

 

Banshee Ain’t Got Nothing On That

Lifting her voice to near jet engine levels, my five month daughter lets me know with subtle nuance that she is currently unhappy.  To my fatigued brain I begin down my checklist.  Is it time for my wife to stick a breast in my daughter’s mouth?  While that would shut me up, my daughter only cares about when she is hungry, and she ate just an hour ago.  Let’s see if we can distract her with a toy.  Nope, that jet engine now has nothing on her.  Maybe it’s a wet diaper.  Off to change her.  Nope it’s dry.  What is next on the list?  My daughter shoves her pacifier in her mouth and the world begins to right itself on its axis.  Oops, that was just a temporary reprieve as the aural attack commences.  I roll my saving throw and fail, receiving 4d8 mental damage.  I walk around the house and share her boisterous malcontent with the neighbors in attempt to earn sympathy points for why my lawn isn’t mowed yet. As she reaches for yet another gear I try to remember the next item on the list?  Maybe she has gas.  I try to burp her while simultaneously giving her gas drops.  While the gas drops are a hit, the sound of my eardrum trying to cleave itself in two emanates from my daughter once again.  What can I do?  This screaming is turning what little brain I have left into a liquid mass threatening to pour through that split eardrum.  Suddenly a sonic boom burp tears through the air and the world is at peace.  I breathe a sigh of relief as I look into her angelic face.  She is such a perfect little baby.  At least until I try to put her down…