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Be a Weekend Writing Warrior!
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First, Happy Mother’s Day to anyone who identifies as female and is owned by a child of any age or species.
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This continues from last week, when Viv’s cousin Ellie calls to bi—I mean, voice concerns about her daughter, the Second Bridesmaid, being excluded from cake-based bridesmaidly (it’s a word) activities.
Since the appointment switch was the bride’s fault, Viv wonders out loud why Ellie is yelling at her:
“Because yelling at Kirsten isn’t going to fix this,” Ellie said.
“And yelling at me will?” Viv asked, already knowing the answer and trying to devise ways to coax her overindulged cousin out of her snit—and her spoiled teenager, too.
“I’m sorry, I really am, but you have no idea how much drama this wedding is causing,” Ellie said.
“Tell me about it,” Viv said, drily, then closed her eyes as Ellie mistook sarcasm for a sincere invitation.
Her cell phone pinged over the stream of complaints and she groped for it without looking—if it was Kristen, she was going to tape the phones together and walk away.
Instead, there was a text: **Thought your Mom might want to complete her set of groomsmen —Jack**
The accompanying image made her whistle.
“Ellie,” she said, interrupting Ellie’s familiar litany, “let me talk to Harper.”
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Dennis to the rescue!
These aren’t the plans I have for him—or not all of them—I’m just letting Viv objectify him to give her a well-deserved break.
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Image of the bouquet was sent to me by a dear friend for my birthday last year.
Image of the Text Message icon courtesy of my Android smartphone.
Earful of Cider 