Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FUSSY (11/17/16)
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TITLE: Mother Daughter Day | Previous Challenge Entry
By Francie Snell
11/24/16 -
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“What’s wrong mom?” Lisa poked her head into the bedroom, her long straight hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“I should have bought the other dress. What time does church start?”
“Ten forty-five.”
Joan glanced at her diamond watch. “I’m not sure I’ll be ready on time. ”
Lisa sighed. “But you still have at least another hour before church starts.”
“Well, I still have makeup and hair to do. You know how long it takes me to get ready.”
Lisa gazed at her with pleading eyes. “You can do it, mom, you promised.”
Joan examined her daughter through the mirror. “You wearing those jeans to church?”
“Yeah.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “What about the dress I bought you. Don’t you have anything nicer to wear?”
“All the kids wear jeans to church. It’s no big deal, really. Hey, how ‘bout I make us some eggs and toast while you’re getting ready.” Lisa ducked back out the doorway and started quickly down the hall.
“Slightly runny, light on the salt and no butter for me,” Joan called after her.
“K”
Half an hour later, Lisa set the warm plates on the table: two eggs each, over easy, with a piece of toast. “Breakfast is ready.”
The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes.
The poignant smell of perfume and hairspray filled the room as Joan sauntered into the kitchen. “How do I look?” She tilted her head to the side showing off her meticulously styled hairdo. Thick black eyeliner surrounded her eyes highlighted with neon blue eyeshadow. Her bright red lipstick matched her dress, the third one she had tried on that morning.
“You look pretty mom. Ready to eat? I’ll warm up our eggs in the microwave.”
“Only thirty-five seconds. The toast gets too soft after that.”
“K” Lisa placed a plate in the microwave.
After her last bite of toast, Lisa wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Ready mom?”
Sitting across the table, Joan answered with a drawn-out breath. “Well…yea… I guess. I still don’t see why it’s so important I go with you to church.”
Lisa looked at her mother and quietly answered. “It’s just important to me mom, that’s all.”
Joan studied Lisa’s countenance. “Ok then, let’s go. We’ll need to hurry to make it on time.”
As Joan maneuvered the little sports car through the church parking lot, she passed by several open spaces.
“Mom, why don’t you park in one of those?”
“They’re too small.”
“What do you mean?”
She huffed. “The last thing I need is for my Beemer to get dinged.”
She continued to the far end of the paved parking lot, then slowly into the adjacent dirt field as dust swirled around the car. She pulled around and parked to face the church which was now the length of a football field away.
“We’re parking here?” Lisa asked, sounding bewildered.
“Yes. I think this is safe enough.”
“But mom. It will take us forever to walk that far, especially with your high heels. Can’t we park any closer?”
“Nope - not a chance.”
Lisa took a deep breath. “Ok, mom, whatever you want, but we better start walking now if we’re going to make it on time. I think they’re already singing.”
“Hold on.” Joan reached up and tilted the rear view mirror and looked at herself. She reached into her purse she had placed in her lap and pulled out a tube of lipstick and a small bottle of perfume. Looking in the mirror she carefully applied another coat of bright red to her lips. Then she held up the bottle of perfume, about to spray...
“NO MOM”, Lisa yelled,” don’t do it! You already have enough on.
Joan looked at her daughter with alarm. “Oh, I do?”
Lisa nodded rapidly. “Oh yeh, MORE than enough... trust me.”
When Joan and Lisa finally arrived in the sanctuary, the pastor was standing at the podium. “Today we’ll be studying in the book of Luke 10:41-42. Please turn in your bibles so that we may read together.” He waited until the room was quiet and then began. “Martha, Martha,” the Lord replied, “you are worried and upset about many things. But only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, and it will not be taken away from her….”
He looked out across the congregation and smiled. “Martha was one stressed out woman. Any of you feel like that?”
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This is one area I have to be very careful about judging others choices of being fussy about.
This was written in an entertaining and not to judgmental style. Thank you for you work