Week 33 – Slamming doors and broken glass

Slamming doors and broken glass.

It could mean only one thing.

Her little munchkins were at it again.

Why did her kids think they could build a plane that could really fly? This was the third window they’d broken this week. And they knew they were in trouble, hence the slammed door and pounding of feet up the stairs.

She sighed and walked into the living room where shards of glass dotted the carpet and a small wooden plane sat in its midst, its motor still running. Huh, they’d added a motor this time rather than just throwing it from a tree and hoping for the best. They really were pretty smart, and okay pretty adorable too.

She sighed again, she really couldn’t stay mad at them for very long. They were good kids and a window could always be repaired.

“Sorry, mommy,” a somber voice spoke behind her.

She turned to see her eight-year-old son standing in the doorway, his six-year-old sister peeking out from behind him. The last of her frustrations melted away. Who had time to stay mad when she had the two sweetest children in the entire world.

“Sorry, mom,” her husband stepped up behind their kids, a sheepish smile on his face.

She couldn’t help but laugh, “You were in on it this time?”

“We thought the motor would work, but the controller decided to go crazy and make the plane do the opposite of what we wanted,” he explained.

She shook her head at them, “What am I going to do with you three?”

“I can think of one thing, right, Snuggle Bear?” her husband swung their daughter up into his arms.

“Right,” their little girl grinned, her two missing front teeth making her look impossibly cute.

“Right, Cuddle Bear,” he tousled their son’s messy brown locks.

“Right,” their little boy agreed solemnly, always the serious one. “Come help us, mommy. If we all work together we can make it fly.”

She smiled, working on a flying model plane with the man she adored and the amazing children they had created, could life get any better than this?

The simple answer was, no it couldn’t. As she took her son’s hand, and her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she brushed a tear of pure joy from her eyes. She really was the luckiest woman in the world.

Posted in Flash Fiction Tagged with: , , , , , , , , ,

Share your thoughts!