Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Friday, July 6, 2012

It was a Sign

I owe it all to Sioux. Or should I say, “blame?” Well, Sioux and Mrs. Buffa. Because I did think of Sioux’s endearing story, “Trained by the Best,” that appeared in Sasee magazine a few months ago, when I stopped at the corner stop sign while leaving my subdivision and accidentally made eye contact with the two little boys who were selling something.

 The eye contact, of course, was my first mistake. But it was a hot day, and I was looking around for the lemonade, and there was none. Instead, there was a box. That, and an elaborately decorated cardboard sign I couldn’t read. I positively couldn’t resist wanting to know what two boys—maybe nine years old—were selling out of that box. Animal? Vegetable? Mineral?

I strained so much that they had to bring the sign over to me so I could read it. Then I had to roll down my window so they could tell me what the sign said, because it was really bad handwriting. Then they had to show me, because I still couldn’t understand them.

Sometimes innocence is genius itself. Because by that point, of course, I pretty much had to buy whatever it was. Even if it was hissing cockroaches in that box.

Which thankfully it wasn’t. It was Shrunken Head Dude here, with his unibrow and devil-may-care whiskers, a bargain at $1. Do you know what he is? Because I had no idea. I had to ask them several times. Stress balls. He is delightfully squishy. Is he dead? My daughter surmised that he is sleeping. Whew. I’d hate to think the stress killed him.

Anyway, thanks to Sioux and Mrs. Buffa, I had coincidentally been feeling very stressed indeed. By the way, his face was much clearer when I bought him a few weeks ago. I left him on the center island where my kids and their friends play with him every time they gather. Thanks, Sioux. And thanks, Mrs. Buffa. Some purchases are worth a lot more than their price tag.

Children are our most valuable resource. ~Herbert Hoover


  1. EVERYbody needs a stress ball. From the faded expression on his face, it looks like he's been put to good use.

    (And thanks for the link and the plug, Tammy. However, you don't think that the link makes up for those killer stuffed tomatoes, do you? My hips and gut are still relishing them--and protecting them, behind a fortress of fat. ;)

  2. Oh, dear. At first I thought he was an egg. Which might have been better for business, since customers would need to keep returning to buy more each time they relieved some stress.

  3. Kids make these out of balloons and flour. Your guy reminds me of a Mayan king...or maybe me after gorging on chocolate.
    Tammy, now it's your turn for Sasee.

  4. I think he's quite cute and I would have bought one too - could use a stress ball right about now!

  5. Yes he has, Sioux. Sorry about those tomatoes. I have a talent for pretend health food. My salads are responsible for MY "fortress of fat."

    LOL Val. They would have been better off. I've seen them out there since then, and no one was stopping. Looks like they've saturated the market.

    Linda, you're so funny. Flour!? I'm glad you told me before we performed surgery to find out what the mysterious squishy stuff was.

    Sorry to hear that, Lynn. You mean because of the heat? That's what I'm blaming!

  6. Nothing as inspiring as young entrepreneurs!

    Critter Alley


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