Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Promptings from Valhalla - 33. Naptime Tragedy
“Guess who got Sally down for her nap without a single argument?” I straddled my husband’s lap and nuzzled his neck, kissing my way up to his ear.
He moved his upper body sideways, craning his head in an attempt to see the television. “So no argument from her or you?”
“Ha ha.” I followed his movement and nipped his earlobe.
“Hey, this is a really good part! Down in front!”
“If you insist.” I snickered and slid down his body onto my knees in front of him, then reached for his pants. He batted my hand away and frowned.
“This is my favorite show!”
I snorted. “So record it!” I massaged his leg. “C’mon… how long has it been? Let’s take advantage while the little monster is asleep.”
“Nice way to talk about your daughter.”
“Our daughter,” I replied. “And we have a DVR, so record your damn show.”
My stubborn husband rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He raised the remote and pointed it at the TV, then pressed a button. “Happy now?”
While his tone was sarcastic, the glint in his eye told me he was more than happy to take his attention away from his ‘favorite show’.
“Very.” I moved my hand up his leg.
He smiled and drew me up until I was sitting next to him. Will loved kissing and was good at it, so we made out like teenagers until a blood-curdling scream made us fly apart as if we’d been doused with a bucket of water.
We ran to Sally’s room, me slightly behind Will. My heart pounded in my chest as cold dread flooded through me. Our five-year-old daughter sat upright in her bed, screaming and sobbing, clutching her beloved Raggedy Ann doll to her chest.
We sat on either side of her, and I pulled her close. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“Annie… lost… her… arm!” she managed to tell us through gasping breaths.
“What are you talking about?” Will asked.
She held up her constant companion carefully. The ragdoll was, indeed, missing an arm.
“Oh honey, what happened?” I asked.
She shrugged and resumed sobbing.
Will stood and picked her up. I searched through the blanket and sheets until I found the doll’s arm. “See, honey? I found it! Annie will be just fine.”
She screamed and turned her face into her papa’s chest. Will rubbed her back.
“Tell you what, sweetie. Why don’t you let daddy take Annie to the dolly hospital to get her fixed, and we can have some Frosted Flakes while we wait.”
She sniffled and looked at him with her watery blue eyes, then nodded. Will and I exchanged glances. Frosted Flakes never failed to make Sally feel better.
“And why do we love Frosted Flakes?” Will said. “Because they’re grrrrrrrrrreat!” He tickled her side, causing her to giggle as they headed into the kitchen.
I grabbed the wounded doll and severed arm and walked to the closet where I kept my sewing supplies. It was easy enough to sew the soft cloth appendage back on. She had probably moved the doll while she was laying on it, which had severed the arm. I found scrap of white cloth big enough to make a sling for post-surgical toy and put a Band-Aid on her shoulder.
My husband and daughter were sitting side-by-side on the couch, watching cartoons. My heart felt like it skipped a beat as I watched them—the two people I loved the most in the world. I walked over, sat next to Sally, and held out the repaired doll. “Here you go, honey. Annie will be a little sore for a while, but she’s good as new!”
Sally’s face lit up as she grinned and gingerly took her dolly from me. “She has her arm back! You fixeded her, daddy!” She jumped off the couch and tottered toward the kitchen. “Let’s get some Fwosted Fwakes for you, Annie. They’re gwwwwweat!”
Check out Cole Matthews' take on the same prompt in "Shuffle off to Buffalo". This is based on a true story.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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