Monday December 14th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about: the germ.

Spent the morning in town with Kat and Max, spent the afternoon with just Max, had pancakes for dinner for the first time in a very long time (hurray for Kat feeling up to it, though it was definitely a family affair in the kitchen), and am now half asleep on the couch.

I'm going to get this writing thing done before I progress to all the way asleep on the couch. Edit: Nope.

Oh, and daycare called this evening to say that two of the teachers have the flu so daycare is cancelled tomorrow. I'm not sure Max would have gone anyway, as the current version of the cold is hitting him pretty hard.

But it still sucks that we won't have the option.

We're leaving for my parents house next week to spend Christmas with my family, so Thursday will be his last chance for daycare before we go. Seriously considering keeping him home, regardless of how he and his teachers are feeling.

I think he's brought home enough germs from there for now.

Mine:

I lurk in the dark
At the park,
Where no cloth
Will ever see.

I hog all the toys
From the boys
And girls but
Who could I be?

I am on their hands,
In their sand -
Here and there,
Everywhere.

There's no killing me,
Clearly.
Just take your pick:
Which type of sick

Will you be?

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Are Canadian pancakes hard to make then? I only rarely make pancakes because I usually think about making the batter and then decide that toad-in-the-hole would be a better use for it :) I hope you all have fun with your family at Christmas: is that a road-trip there? I think you said they live on Vancouver Island, but then I think I remember you talking about them moving a while back too.
Giving all of your immune systems a break from daycare as a Christmas present sounds like a great idea, by the way!
Lovely poem; clearly that nap you had in the middle of the writing was worth it ;-) The whole thing flows very smoothly and has a real rhythm that cries to be spoken out loud. Great stuff.

The germ
Eleanor sniffed. There was a strong lemony scent in the air, so strong in fact that it made her want to sneeze. She backed out of the kitchen, puzzling it over, and starting coughing. In the living room there was a stench of bleach that felt like it was burning the back of her throat and the inside of her nose. She returned to the kitchen and held her breath while she got the window open. That was much better, now there was just woodsmoke in the air.
She looked down at the windowsill as she finished with the window and saw the source of the lemon scent: a bottle of lemon-scented antibacterial cleaner. It was clearly new, but when she picked it up she found it was so light it must be nearly empty. She shook it, frowning, and heard the faint slosh of a tiny amount of left-over liquid.
"I'm getting another bottle of that," said Kathy. Eleanor jumped and dropped the bottle: she'd not heard her daughter come in to the kitchen.
"Uh, why dear?" she said, picking the bottle back up again.
"It's run out," said Kathy. "I've still got the upstairs bathroom and the attic to clean."
"Why are you cleaning everything?" said Eleanor, still perplexed. Kathy was seven, which was surely too young to be stress-cleaning. Though you did hear some worrying things about her teacher at school....
"Germs," said Kathy. "They're everywhere. Miss Snippet told us all about them on Monday, and we looked at them under the microscope. I'm eradicating them so the house is safe for us."
"Oh," said Eleanor. This didn't feel like enough, but she was at a loss as to what to say next. Having the house cleaned was nice, though it would be better if it wasn't quite so thorough. "Oh. Where's your father? I think we ought to make sure he's happy with this too."
"In the garden," said Kathy. "Only you'll have to be quick if you want to ask him."
"Why?" Eleanor couldn't help but feel that she wasn't having a conversation as much as she was trying to defend herself from a seven-year-old.
"He's germy," said Kathy. "So I'm burning him since I can't afford enough cleaner to sterlise him properly."
Woodsmoke drifted in through the window.

Marc said...

Greg - nah, not really. Just involves a lot of standing in the kitchen at a time of day Kat tends to be quite tired. Just nice to see her with a bit more energy, was all.

Thanks for the kind words on mine, I was pleased with how it turned out as well!

Well, this is a rather terrifying result of a Miss Snippet lesson. I wonder how many others ended this way, intentionally on her part or otherwise...

Wonderful details and character descriptions, by the way. Really well done, in a delightfully creepy kind of way.