Even Cupcakes Get the Blues

I’m participating in a February writing challenge. The goal is to write every day. Some days I plan to blog to prompt, on others I will work on larger ongoing projects.

But here it is, after ten pm day one and I am just now putting pen to paper, or rather, thumb to screen.

Today’s prompt is to write about a memory. One of my earliest was a visit to my grandmother’s house when I was four. My grandmother lived in Ireland and I only ever met her twice.

The first time we were very nearly involved in the Cuban Missile Crisis (not kidding). This time I was four and my memories from that time are tinged with the priorities of the very young.

I was terribly upset that I was not permitted to visit the mean rooster. I was traumatized after dropping a toy into the pen housing my aunt’s enormous snorting pigs. I was twitchy from the buzzing bees in my grandmother’s beautiful garden.

Funny that i remember it as a happy time with all these traumatic memories.

One of my strongest memories was an afternoon surrounded by my cousins, none of whom I’ve seen since, outside on a sunny day.

My grandmother had made cupcakes and given us each one. While I was unwrapping mine, I dropped it. Frosting side down. I was inconsolable. I remember that feeling inside my little four year old head, like it was the end of the world.

Then someone brought me a new cupcake. And everything was better.

And that was the day I learned that no matter how bad things seem, there is always a solution.

And I still believe that to this day.

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2 thoughts on “Even Cupcakes Get the Blues

  1. I once dropped my ice cream at Baskin Robbins. I liked it right off the edge of the cone and cried just like that. The lady gave me a new one and ever after I’ve liked the place.

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