Tiny Packages bring Apocolyptic Things!

In cruising the Blog ‘hood, I saw a writing prompt at The One Minute Writer asking "What was a recent gift you gave"?

Well THAT’S easy. Just a mere two blogs ago I was chillin’ with Peggy the Villian and as it was her birthday, mom was said recipient.

But that doesn’t tell you what I gave. I hesitate to mention it simply because mom is a cute and tiny friendly figure at the local carousel. She is the operator who takes the coins from the cute little germy fingers, lets the parents know that Yes, even though they are prone to motion sickness - if the kid is under 6 years old they have to ride as well and has thankfully pulled a fallen baby out from under the moving carousel without the child getting hurt.

She’s a hero! She’s adorable! She’s a Smooth Mominal.

That’s right. Peggy has a dark side to her. I won’t detail the darkness that has befallen me in my young and rambunctious years, back in the days when I would tempt fate. Back when parents could still legally say “I brought you into this world and I can take you right back out!” But I will say this. Be forewarned. My mother not only has a temper, but she deeply enjoys books on murderers and serial killers.

Oh wait, did I say books? Why am I limiting myself here? I meant books, movies, documentaries, rumours, and microfiche. Mom enjoys the crispy black lining of the human psyche. And laughs about it.

She even saw The Excorcist in the movie theater ALONE. (My soul just ran screaming at the thought!)

Guess what color sweater looks best on her? A nice homicidal hue of Redrum*! (Gratuitous Shining reference).

Oh….did I just kick my mom out of the well stocked Creepy Closet? It’s okay. If she’s reading this, she’s probably giggling.

I found this rather thick paperback of sick psychos and the headlines detailing their crimes in chronological order by year. I knew my mom had to have it. And sure enough, when she saw it, I heard that Soulmate music…that Staring Across a Field at Each Other Right Before Running into Each Other’s Arms because They’re the One music. My mom and this book. Meant to be.

I sat with her as she flipped through and was amazed, no….Impressed! That mom could see a black and white old photo of a couple of teenagers from about the 1950s or 60s and tell me all about the story. I read pretty quickly so as she spoke, my eyes scanned the story. Every detail she gave….was right there in print. I moved a couple of inches to the far end of the couch.

Just remember, she’s tiny and appears harmless. But so does a dime falling from the top of the Empire State Building.

You’ve been hit by…you’ve been struck by….a smooth Mominal.