Pick a Topic

So, recognizing that it is fun to write, just to write, I sat down with the kids while they slurped and spooned rootbeer floats into their mouths, and asked, "What should I write about tonight?"  Paige piped up, "Oooh, write about how we're learning words every week!  Like, malev, uh, malevo, um, malevolent!"

I smiled, "Already wrote about that."  We all slumped, and thought.

"Oh, I know," Tony said, "you can write about how big my head is!"  That got a laugh, and I said, "Nope, already covered that topic too."  They both giggled.

"I could write about how poor Jack-o-Lantern (their pet caterpillar who refuses to make a cocoon!) is constantly ignored by his parents, and how your mom always has to take care of him. . ."  We all looked over at Jack-o-Lantern's habitat.  Then Paige grabbed the flashlight and ran outside to get him some fresh grass and leaves. 

When she got back in, she exclaimed, "Oh, you can write about how your bed doesn't squeak anymore!"

Back story:  my bed is a piece of crap.  I bought it cheap, shortly after the divorce, had two hoodlums from the furniture store put it together, and it has squeaked since I purchased it.  I got to the point, a couple months ago, where Gracie's fat ass tossing and turning some nights would make me think I was being attacked by a pack of machete-wielding mice, and so, on a Sunday afternoon, I grabbed all the spare screws I had lying around the house, plugged in my electric screw driver and screwed away. . . (not as fun as it sounds).  After a grueling couple of hours, I replaced the mattress, and had the kids test the squeaks.  They jumped on it, nothing.  So I invited Gracie up there and got her riled up.  No squeaks!  Awesome.  Right?  Yes, for a few weeks, even.  Then I decided to rearrange the bedroom, and in so doing, I loosened the thousands of screws, and though Gracie doesn't sleep on my bed too often, she did last night.  She shook her fat ass to get comfortable and the machete-wielding mice were back.

So, no, I couldn't write about that.

We sat and thought.  Thought and sat.

"How about. . . um, no." One of us would proffer, "Or maybe. . . nah."

"I could write about how yellow Tony's teeth are because he refuses to brush them unless I scream. . ." I offered.  Tony ran into the bathroom and started brushing.

"Or I could write about how it is 7 o'clock and neither of you are in your PJs, and settled for the tv show yet."  They both ran upstairs and got in their PJs.

Then my phone beeped, and a message came up:  "Cliff F. just played SongPop".

We all looked at the phone, took the turn, Paige screaming in my ear the answer she thought it was and Tony pushing whatever button he could as I glared at him.  After the loss, Paige said, "You could write about how you kicked Uncle Cliffy's butt on SongPop!"  I looked at her and said, "Yes, but I didn't.  He kicked mine."

"So?"  Then both of them giggled.

So, here I am still thinking about a topic to write about. . .  Any ideas?