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life lessons
Anonymous

Little Miss Know It All

A mother tries teaching her daughter about being an adult

She sat opposite her daughter, hands tightly clasped in her lap, “You don’t know everything,” she said, sitting forward so she was eye level with her daughter. “Being an adult, isn’t as easy as doing whatever the hell you want, goofing off, taking advantage of people and shirking your responsibilities.”   “I know mom, yet you still lecture me,” her daughter Brooke said, crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair...

Working with children, you're privy to some of their conversations. Overheard snippets as you walk past or sit next to them. Even the very young children somehow seem to be able to effectively communicate with each other. To me, it just sounds like random noises and baby babble, but they just know. On Wednesday I was partially privy to such a conversation when I walked down the other end of the playground to defuse a squi...

A thing called Love

Story written from a random plot given by a friend: Castaway, Dream catcher, Post box, Nail color.

The city was under siege. Mother Nature was unleashing her fury. Such torrential rain had not been seen in a 100 years. The city was drowning. Breached lakes, overflowing sewage, furious sea, and the relentless rain. There was an overwhelming sense of despair among the rich and the poor alike. But I wasn’t worried. I was in fact mildly happy. Only two days back, I had moved into my new apartment. The apartment was thankfu...

The Mail box

A man takes the last walk to his mail box.

The mail Box The doctor’s death sentence still pains my heart as I retrieve my mail this December morning. For 40 years I’ve walked to this old mailbox. This will be my last trip. The week following Christmas I will check into an assisted living facility, then a nursing home, and finally the hospices center. It's a queer sensation knowing you're walking the last mile or so of life's journey. My old mailbox and I have a lo...

Today at the park

this child was a joy to behold

I watched a young mother walking with her boy,Her proud smile told all of her joy.As cute as a button, cheeks rosy and red,Dark curls peeked from under the toque on his head.His laughter, like bells ringing out in the cold,His steps never faltered, he was so bold.I watch as he stomps, kicks and jumps in the snow,Such an adorable little man, too quickly they grow.This sweet little angle perhaps two or three,On short little...