Making Your Bed - 6/30

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Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby Brian » Tue Jun 30, 2009 8:15 am

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Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby Brian » Tue Jun 30, 2009 8:15 am

You forgot to make your bed this morning and your mom is on the prowl, ready to hand out punishment. In an effort to avoid grounding, make up an excuse (no matter how absurd) as to why you were unable to make your bed.

Please limit your response to 500 words or fewer.

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Re: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby wcmedows » Tue Jun 30, 2009 3:05 pm

I was in it.

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RE: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby Madeleine » Tue Jun 30, 2009 3:48 pm

If that situation comes to me, I will tell her I am not a fussy lady. I want to be in good friendship with my companies and relax in my whole life. If it dose not through that reason, then I can say, I am plan to wash all the coversheets. And I will waste my whole day of the weekend :(

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Re: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby wcmedows » Tue Jun 30, 2009 5:28 pm

Actually I wrote a 650 word piece in response to this prompt, and it may very well find a home with a magazine! I wrote it with the intent of responding to this prompt as well as to my jokingly short story submission prior. (Yes, I know, it was nothing, but it ended up prompting me in fact to write something cool!)

Thanks for the prompt, and sorry that I am not publishing it here, if it gets published with the magazine I have submitted the inquiry to, I will post a link back here for the submission. If not, months hence, assuming I get the dreaded rejection, I will post the actual piece.

Strangely this little prompt made me write something that I think has been burning in me to write, and may have opened my eyes to a market I haven't even tried to pursue up to now!

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RE: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby wizzie » Tue Jun 30, 2009 9:07 pm

I just could not get moving this morning. I felt so sleepy and sitting on the edge of the bed trying to wake up was not helping. Instead of making the bed I wanted to get back under the covers and go back to sleep, but I heard mom coming down the hall and calling me for breakfast. I quickly jumped up and pretended I was busy doing something.
“Julie, are you almost ready? It’s time for breakfast. And why is your bed not made?”
Darn, I thought, it’s just a bed. What’s the big deal? “Would you believe I made it and the dog came in and messed it up? I flashed a big grin.
Mom frowned and said, “No, we don’t have a dog.”
“Would you believe I forgot?” I felt hopeful. I sure didn’t want to be grounded this afternoon.
“How do you forget to make your bed?”
“Would you believe I just didn’t feel like making my bed this morning?”
“What do you mean you just didn’t feel like it? You know you’re supposed to make your bed every morning and if you don’t there are consequences.”
“I guess I was thinking about you, Mom”
“How is that?”
“Sometimes you forget or don’t feel like doing something, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“You know, like when you don’t feel like cooking, or washing clothes or dusting and want to do something else, right?
“Well yes, but…”
“Well, I didn’t feel like it and I’m doing something else, just like you!”
“Well, you’ve got me there. Fix your bed anyway and then go eat breakfast. Mom started out the door, stopped and with a big grin said, “That was the best excuse I’ve heard by the way and an excellent lesson for me.”

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RE: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby Neets » Wed Jul 01, 2009 3:13 am

“Get that bed made right now young lady, we have to leave soon!”

Blarrgh. My Mom is such a neat freak. Everything in the house has to look like we are going to have a buffet.

I snuck up last night to play pong on the t.v. with the sound turned down. It was 3 before I went to sleep, and now I have to go to the dentist. Blarrgh.

I got scared last night, something was scratching around the house. I brought all my Partridge family albums into the bed with me so I could look at David Cassidy. Now all the albums were scattered everywhere in the bed. In behind the headboard, stuck in the frame between the wall and the bed, stuck in between the bed and the footboard.

I don’t have time to make my bed this morning, I have to heat up my curling iron and brush my teeth for the dentist who will tell me I have to do a better job brushing my teeth.

I suck in my breath and let out my shrillest blood curdling scream. “Mooooooom!!” I zoom into the kitchen. “There’s a rat or a mouse or something in my bed!!”

Her face went pure white. “Oh my God!” She ran outside and grabbed a shovel and ran back into my room. I joined her there after a quick detour to the bathroom to plug in my curling iron.

Mom was dead quiet in my room, shovel at the ready. At that moment, another Partridge family record fell from the mattress into the frame of the bed. My Mom started bashing the mattress for all she was worth with the shovel, smashing my album in the process.

As the rest of the records started falling to the floor she let out a high pitched whine of pure panic and let the bed have it. All of my albums were being smashed to smithereens at this point and she wouldn’t listen to my pleas to stop. Chopping the bed furiously she started crying. “Die, die, die!!”

Okay I guess you could say I deserved the loss of all my Partridge family albums for being a brat. Once she was drained and had completely smacked the bed to death I had to tell her the truth, she was melting down into a blubbering mass. I had never seen her like this.

We didn’t make it to the dentist, and my idea did not save me any time. I am grounded for the next month and the pong game is gone. Blarrrgh.

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RE: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby writfem76 » Wed Jul 01, 2009 3:43 am

"Candice Elizabeth." My mother bellowed from upstairs.

"I'm coming." I placed my backpack on the foyer's hardwood floor, slowly ascended the stairs and walked to my room at the end of the second floor.

As I entered the doorway to my room, I smiled sheepishly. "What's up, Mom? I don't want to be late for school."

My mother glanced at her wristwatch. "You have plenty of time. I thought we had a deal. You're supposed to fix your be everyday before going to school. Why did you do that?"

An awkward silence fell between us and I search my mind for a good excuse.

She crossed her arms. "I'm waiting."

"It's...unhealthy to fix your bed in the morning."

My mother's penciled eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Unhealthy?"

"Let me explain what I mean. I was reading on the internet it had some to do with dead skin cells accumulating and eventually making you sick."

"What was the website?"

I shrugged. "Mom, you know I visit a lot of websites. I think it was WebMD but I'm not sure."

"I'll have to look that up later but when you get home from school I expect you to fix your bed."

I saluted. "Yes, Mom. I will."

She threw me a dirty look. "Don't press your luck."

"I'm not. I was just trying to be funny but I guess I don't have a future career as a comedian. I'll see you later. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

I ran downstairs, grabbed my backpack and flew out the door.

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Re: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby Lisanne » Wed Jul 01, 2009 6:29 am

LOL, Neets, I think that was your best yet!

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Re: Making Your Bed - 6/30

Postby ash » Wed Jul 01, 2009 6:30 am

Dear mom the rejection and dejection I have faced in life has turned me into a totally useless piece of rubbish, with no motives and no aim to live for, the latest setback in life has totally turned my heart away from all things worldly and turned me into a living dead. Once again as always after days and nights of hard work and faithful devotion to studies, I failed to get an ‘A’ in a supply chain management course. Dear mom you asked me again and again the reason behind my being so dull, so this was the reason. I spend my days and nights thinking that why of all the people I fail to achieve whatever I want? I wanted to be a doctor, I couldn’t, I wanted to be a good person but I failed at being one.
Dear mom life was never so miserable, you know the hard work and efforts I put into the particular course, but I failed to achieve my targets. Life is astonishingly bestowing on all the people, some people are beautiful, others have bright brains, some have peace of mind, others are complete satisfaction, but I have none. Mom why? To whom I must go and complain? To whom I recount my stories of suffering and unfailing pain?
At this critical juncture of my life mom when life itself has lost its meaning to me and when there is no ray of hope for me to see, as you may see, making bed is really of no importance to me.


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