Safety First

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“Seven babies found alive under icicles with tubs of Tonka Trucks and miniature kittens.”


After watching the news this morning I decided it was time to patent a new invention; “The Good News Daily.” It would be nothing but snowflakes and skyrockets all day long. Today on the actual news I heard of missile blasts slaying hundreds of darlings. Other stories included police macing red head children in the face for no reason. Sarah Palin assassinates us all. It is quite the damper on one’s day.


Getting back to the plug of the story. When I was a child I was a complete loser in the face of my peers. If having four eyes and crooked teeth wasn’t enough, my lunchbox was full of chunks of lettuce and my book bag wasn’t even a Jansport. It was a tote bag with a photo of an egret on it that I drew when I was a toddler. Lunchtime was an exchange of community stories. Everyone would spit out what enormous weekends they had. They went to Chucky Cheese and ate cheese; they went to the big screen and even went to restaurants that served red meat! What did you do Elizabeth? I collected peanuts in my yard; I watched Little House on the Prairie and worked on organizing my geode collection.


When I was participating in the classic outdoor activity, collecting peanuts, I was forced to wear a light reflective vest; a bright orange polyester plastic blend with colossal silver stripes down the sides. All day and all night this clothing accessory would embody my being when I wasn’t at the institution. I wasn’t quite sure why we had to wear it during the day since the sun did shine in South Carolina. I would get very upset while my mother made us siblings stand single file with our arms straight up. She went down the line as if we were being rocket launched into a straightjacket. I would beg and plead to my mother about how nobody liked us. Our hair matched the vest apparel and the kids in the neighborhood would laugh and point at us when we walked around. “Please, please don’t make us wear these anymore!” We would scream.


I’ve come to realize that some of my mother’s strange rules are quite accurate and have a plethora of reimbursements. I’ve almost assassinated nine runners in San Diego because of their lack of realization that the vest equals life. When running or walking in the dark, or dare I say, collecting peanuts, one must wear some sort of light up device. It is imperative if one wants to avoid death. I thank you mother for forcing my arms into the ugliest apparel I have ever seen while I was kicking wildly at you nose to get it off.

Created: Feb 26, 2014

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