A writer and a parent: Living in two worlds

The selkie wizard shed his seal form and stepped onto the sand. The white-capped waves of the

Knock at the door. Child enters without waiting for an answer. “Mom, look at this thing I made with the glue and the toothpicks, and its stuck here, and it looks like a thing.”

“That’s awesome, honey. Now, Mommy’s working. It’s 8:30. You need to brush your teeth and get in bed.”

“OK. Goodnight, Mommy.” Big kiss.

“Goodnight, honey, I love you.”

The selkie wizard shed his seal form and stepped onto the sand. The white-capped waves of the Farnorth Sea receded, only to throw themselves at his feet again in supplication, as if begging him not to leave. The Temple of

Door bangs open. “Mom, I just hurt myself when I was getting my pajamas on. I was closing the drawer and then I went oof and it was ow and I bonked my knee and I laughed.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah. It was just funny.”

“OK, then you need to go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Another kiss.

The selkie wizard shed his seal form and stepped onto the sand. The white-capped waves of the Farnorth Sea receded, only to throw themselves at his feet again in supplication, as if begging him not to leave. The Temple of Skymorn lay ahead, its ancient bronze steps crusted with verdigris. He had to reach the top of the labyrinthine staircase before the third moon rose. A simple task, if

Door flung open. Older child says, “Mom, why are there underpants in the bathroom sink?”

“I don’t know. They’re not mine. Is the washing machine empty?”

“Yes.”

“Then put them in there.”

“Well, I would, but I just went to the bathroom and I have to wash my hands first. But I can’t wash them in my bathroom, because of the underwear.” Though why washing one’s hands before moving dirty underwear from a sink to a washing machine is a mystery to me.

Enters my bathroom with all the subtlety of a barbarian hoard.

The selkie wizard shed his seal form and stepped onto the sand. The white-capped waves of the Farnorth Sea receded, only to throw themselves at his feet again in supplication, as if begging him not to leave. The Temple of Skymorn lay ahead, its ancient bronze steps crusted with verdigris. He had to reach the top of the labyrinthine staircase before the third moon rose. A simple task, if one needed only to run.

This was his fifth attempt at retrieving the Ray of Dawn, a seraphic fire gem with unquenchable light. Without it, the undead merrow minions of the Murk Lord would

Previous child enters. “Mom, why is Tara in your bathroom when –?”

“GET OUT. EVERYONE GET OUT. I AM WORKING. AND PUT THAT UNDERWEAR IN THE WASHING MACHINE.”

In case anyone is wondering why it takes me so long to write anything, now you know.

- J.L. Hilton

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6 Responses to A writer and a parent: Living in two worlds

  1. OMG, I haven’t laughed this hard in a while. SO totally true!! Loved it.

  2. Very funny! Fortunately my children are now grown but my grandson fulfills the same role as I try to maneuver my characters around Ancient Egypt LOL!

  3. Kris Starr says:

    Thanks for that laugh! I have a 10-year-old and an almost-two-year-old. The situations may change, but the interruptions remain the same!

    Kris

  4. lol, here I thought I was the only one who used the GET OUT words to the kids. So hard when you’re in the zone and they want something. I find myself just uh-huh-ing and then look up and they are doing something I apparently said yes to :/

  5. He he. Thanks for the chuckle.

  6. Juliana Ross says:

    I’m so glad to know I’m not alone in this respect. I find it especially tricky to write the steamier stuff when I’m being interrupted every five seconds!