LIFE IS A TEST by Ginger Simpson #humor

Life is a test for most of us. Sometimes you just look up at heaven and ask God to give you an "F" and move along, but things aren't that easy.  We all have to endure what comes our way.

I can remember when my test started. I was a “fat” child—even before the days of fast food and hormone-injected burgers. If one survived all the fat jokes and unkind remarks, then that person was sort of a survivor.  Bullies have been around since the beginning of time, trust me.

 Oh, you don’t know you’re being tested until you become an adult and wonder how you made it through those times. At least today, kids can blame their weight on their eating habits and the fact that both parents are forced to work and don’t have time to cook nutritious meals…in my time, my mother stayed home with us and cooked all our meals.

My dad worked in a raft shop for ninety-nine cents an hour. With four kids to feed, he used to “appropriate” things…like that word? That’s a new saying my husband  uses when he brings things home from work that he didn’t buy. Anyhow, my dad “appropriated” the canned rations that were used in packing life rafts.

Days that he brought them home felt like Christmas...those cute little tins with food inside. How fair is it that you can you get fat on rations that starving people, adrift in a life raft, eat to survive?

My mom had a strange habit of cooking one extra piece of meat.  Dad was a meat, potatoes and salad kinda guy, so that was our menu most of the time. Can you say “cholesterol”?

There were four kids and two adults in our family, and no matter how big the pieces were, she always cooked seven of them. I don’t think anyone wanted a second helping, but there it was, lurking for whoever could eat the fastest. Every night was like a contest you really didn’t want to enter, and you didn’t really want the prize, but you were compelled to perform. It wasn’t until I had stomach surgery and had to learn to chew everything I ate that I actually realized food has a taste.

Being fat as a child is exceptionally hard on your ego. I was always the last picked in any recess games. That’s how you really learn to manage stress. You're forced to line up while two team captains,
usually the slimmest and richest kids in class, select their favorites…one at a time. The line gets shorter and shorter until you are the only one left. In itself, standing as the soul remaining pick does some severe damage to your self-esteem, but when the captains start offering you to the other team as a nicety…that’s the worst. Imagine standing red-faced while two people argue about you--and not because they want you.

First team captain:  “Okay, we have enough, you can have her for your team"
Second team captain:  No, that’s all right, you take her…it’s only fair.”

Fair, schmaire! What would be fair is if you didn’t have to play those stupid games of dodge ball in the first place. What fat kid wants to run around trying to avoid being hit by something that’s
as round as they are?


I hope this brought some laughter to your day.  Now, I sort of wish I could go back to those dodge-ball playing days.  :)

Check out my books on my web site http://gingersimpson.com.  If you find any broken links, please let me know.  I'm open to suggestions, too, since I did the design myself.

Throwback Thursday ~ Secrets and Lies by Jamie Hill

I'm resurrecting one of my older titles for Throwback Thursday, but rather than my standard excerpt I'm giving you a juicy moment from the middle. If you haven't read it, I hope you'll check it out here:

http://amzn.com/B005ZF5AXC

Natalie was irritable and sleeping all the time. The first week of January, she barely wanted to get out of bed. It wasn't until she started throwing up in the mornings that it occurred to Alex what the problem might be.

He left her alone for a few minutes while he went to the store, and when he returned he slapped a small box on the nightstand next to her bed.

"What is that?" she asked groggily.

"An early pregnancy test. Read the instructions and take it." Try as he might, he knew his tone was not pleasant.

Natalie appeared surprised. "Why would I…we said we were going to wait…" she looked at him. "Oh my God."

He felt his eyes brim with tears. "Just take it, please. I have to know. We have to know."

She sat up and looked at the box. "Oh, Alex, no. It can't be. I can't be!"

He picked up the box and thrust it at her. "Go find out."

She opened the package and read the instructions. "It says to use first morning urine."

"We're not waiting until morning. Do it now."

She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Please," he added carefully.

She nodded and took the test into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later. "Five minutes."

"Okay." He nodded and paced the room.

"It never occurred to me," she said sullenly, and sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked at her incredulously. "Didn't the doctor talk to you about the possibility?"

She shrugged. "She asked me if I was on birth control and I said yes."

He knelt in front of her. "Natalie, you're not. Remember, we talked about this? Pills, diaphragms, whatevers…those are you being on birth control. Condoms are me being on birth control." He balled his hands into fists. "I told you to talk to your doctor about getting you on something, dammit!"

"So you're saying this is my fault?"

"I never said that." He willed himself to calm down. Okay, maybe I said it in a roundabout kind of way. But I didn't mean it. He looked at the clock. "It's been five minutes."

She stood up silently and he followed her to the bathroom. She picked up the test stick. "Plus sign means yes, minus means no." She looked at it. She studied it. She handed it to him, and he studied it.

"It looks like a freaking blue minus sign on top of a pink plus sign."

"I thought so, too."

He tossed the stick on the counter. "So much for that fifteen dollars. We know exactly what we knew ten minutes ago. Nothing."

She rubbed her hands over her arms. "I don't think you're angry about the fifteen dollars."

He walked out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed. "Gotta start somewhere."

"You're angry that I might be pregnant?" She faced him.

"You're not?"

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Find all my titles at my publisher's website, Books We Love:  

http://bookswelove.net/authors/hill-jamie/ 

Thanks for stopping by!

 

Ginger's Sunday Sampler

As some of you may know, I occasionally review books for Historical Novel Review, a group in which I maintain great pride because of the collective talent there, both in reviewing and writing.  I just started my latest "adventure," and I'm so impressed with the first chapter, I just had to share a sample with you.  I'll be doing a full review soon at http://historicalnovelreview.blogspot.com.
  

Waking Storm's Winter by Kathryn Adams
(Released June 2012)

Excerpt:

"Are we ready for winter?" she asked the shadow standing beside her at the window.  No reply.

He had remained by her side throughout the heat of the summer.  She remembered the warmth of his touch on her shoulder as the sun beamed hotly upon them, his hand lightly caressing her hair as summer breezes swept past.  At the close of the day spent toiling along on their homestead, her fingers tugged at her wrist as she dipped a weary hand into the cool mountain stream flowing below the meadow.

Tinged with sadness, his touch remained throughout the fading days of fall.  She had felt his cool tears falling on her cheeks as dripping rains plummeted from leaden skies.  She could taste the hard press of his mouth on hers as she bit into a crisp red apple just below the cabin.

She stood still now, in front of the window and waited, waited for a feeling, any feeling.  Nothing.  Each day his touch grew weaker, distant, cold.  Maybe today was the day it disappeared, frozen into stillness by the falling snow.

She studied the granite stone that had stood beneath the aspen on the hill since late May.  For two days she had fought the rock-choked ground to dig the perfect hole.  For two days she had searched surrounding hillsides for the perfect piece of granite.  The bright greens and yellows of spring were flourishing when she used their house to drag the thin slap of pink-and-black-speckled rock from within the shadowed forest.  Lacking tools to carve meaningful symbols upon its surface, she simply allowed the beautiful piece to stand sentry there upon the hill, over the hole, under the aspen tree.  She required no engraved name or date to remember!

This is book one in a series yet to come, and you can find it on Amazon.

As usual, I invite you to share information on your own books, complete with buy links in the comment section, or do as I've done and share something that's grabbed your attention.