And Then She Said. . .

My grandest to the guy at the Stop and Shop deli who was slicing our turkey: “I hope you’re careful with that machine or else it’s FINGER SALAD!” Always alert to life’s foibles. At this time in her five years, she’s not physically scarred by life other than an occasional bump or bruise. She looks at my legs marred because when skin ages, it tends to tear and takes forever to heal. Then tenderly she peels band aids I don’t want and carefully covers the sore areas after dousing them with peroxide. Oh yes. She does all that at her young age. Taught by her loving mom.

I pray she’s spared the marks of experience and hope I’m here to calm her fears; dry her tears. Meanwhile I do the best I can by giving her a pure loving heart, the best gift of all.Photo: Don't mess with me OR my mom“Don’t mess with me, my mom or my Granny.”

2 thoughts on “And Then She Said. . .

  1. Couldn’t log in on your site for comment. She’s a treasure, that girl is! Wanting to take care of grownup boo-boos. She was taught well by her mother, who was taught well byher mother. Well done, Charmaine.


      Marilyn Celeste Morris, Author, Editor, Speaker WEBSITE: BLOG: AMAZON:;PUBLISHER'S SITE: And now, free reads: First four chapters ofall my books:

    “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” — Ray Bradbury




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