Yummy Yams

I have two daughters, and neither of them looks like me.

When the older was an only child, and we’d be out and about, strangers would say, “She must really take after her father.” Now with a second one in tow, people assume correctly that she’s adopted. But this second one, who came from my womb, she doesn’t look like me either. People exclaim all the time, “She looks like her daddy!” All the time.

It was starting to eat at my soul a little bit. I even had a ridiculous dream where I asked for a maternity test. Every little thing she does can also be attributed to him, well, except for this one thing.

She’s been a picky eater when it comes to “solid” foods. It hasn’t stopped me from introducing her different things, despite her indifference to swallowing. Anyway, I think I finally found something I have in common with this precious girl.

Last night, she was introduced to sweet potatoes. Unlike her daddy, she could not get enough of it. She loved it. She was reaching for more. It was simply the best feeding experience ever.

The Fate of Mr. Devereaux’s Cello

A while ago, I subscribed to The Daily Post which, if you didn’t know, gives daily and weekly writing prompts.   I’ve written a few posts based on the prompts, but those will remain in my draft folder likely forever.  And you’re welcome for that.

The prompt for this week piqued my interest.  The challenge is to write a story in exactly fifty words.  I found myself sharing the following micro story with my girls throughout the day… which is probably why it sounds like a nursery rhyme.  Still I like it enough that I will publish it here.

The Fate of Mr. Devereaux’s Cello

Mr. Deveraux was not just any fellow

For he was quite skilled at playing the cello.

Oh, the lovely sounds produced by that bow!

It was said only he could make a wasp mellow.

Alas one day, he let out a bellow,

“Oh no! Why is my prized cello yellow?”