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February 21, 2009 05:31:17
Posted By The Write Editor
Let’s just say Mom was nutrition conscious. My sister and I could never have a full can of soda while living at home. So every day after school we’d grab an ice cold soda from the fridge and share it. We had our choice of Shasta flavors: black cherry soda, root beer, lemon lime, cream, or cola.
But fair is fair. And to keep it that way and to keep peace, my sister and I devised a fairness system. One split the soda between two glasses, the other got to pick which glass to take.
A simple but workable system.
But to my way of thinking, systems were made to be subverted. Systems should serve the girl; the girl shouldn’t serve the system.
I was maniacally gleeful when we got home from school that first day after secretly revising the system. I knew my sister well enough to know that this would work 100% of the time.
“Hey, sis, while you change your clothes, I’ll split the soda, then you can pick. That okay with you?” I had to work to keep the stupid grin off my face. But you can be sure I was feeling it all the way down to my toes.
“Okay, I’ll be out in a couple minutes,” my unsuspecting sister said.
I peeked down the hallway to make sure she was in her room. I pulled out two glasses from the cabinet and a black cherry soda from the fridge. Into the glasses I poured the liquid refreshment. Into the left one, I poured about two-thirds of the soda. Into the right one I poured the remaining soda, then I added cold water to bring the level up. But I added just enough to raise it a smidgen more than the glass with pure soda.
As my sister returned to the kitchen, I plastered my most bored demeanor onto my freckled face. She put the glasses side by side and eyeballed them. And just as I knew she would, she took the one containing the added water—because she’d get more “soda” than I would.
I wanted to jump up and laugh in triumph, but I controlled myself. My performance was worthy of an Oscar! My system worked for years, and sister never suspected my complicity. Of course, she thought she was winning—every day.
My sister and I are in our fifties now. About ten years ago I figured it was “safe” to confess my sin to her.
            But tell me, which one of us was greedier?
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Categories: proofreading, author, write, copyediting, copy edit, edit, food, sisters, greed
 
February 14, 2009 08:47:51
Posted By The Write Editor
No, not the jewelers. The lady who babysat me and my sister when we were little. Okay,  I don’t remember the sitter’s name, but “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” is catchy—caught your attention.
One morning, Mom was running late for work, so she didn’t have time to feed us breakfast. She rushed us to the sitter’s house (whatever her name was!), who kindly fed us.
I knew we were in for a treat when “Tiffany” pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard, a carton eggs from the fridge, and bread from the box.
Eggs. Yum! The incredible, edible egg. I drooled as she cooked breakfast.
I sat in anticipation at the kitchen table, fork poised in my plump hand. I was so hungry, I wanted to snatch the plate from the kind lady’s hand and dive into my egglicious food.
I didn’t thank God for this blessed gift. I plunged the fork into yoke, a golden slimy stream spewed forth. I soaked up the runny treat with bits of buttered toast and stabbed the white albumin, then shoved the tasty victuals into my eager mouth. (My taste buds did the happy dance!)
Wait! I just got started and it’s gone? Surely I hadn’t eaten it already? With a final lick of egg drool off my lip, I raised by eyes and looked at my sister then to her plate of untouched food.
Why was she staring ashen faced at her plate? The two eggs stared back at her.
Ah! Poor dear. She hates eggs. The only way she can possibly worry down eggs if they are hard fried. For her to even look at over-easy eggs, much less eat them, is an invitation to hurl.
Mom would be horrified if my sister were so ungrateful as not to eat the food the sitter wasn’t obligated to provide us. At such a tender age I was forced into a difficult position. I could 1) come to the aid of my older sister and explain to our sitter that dear sis just couldn’t eat the eggs, thereby wasting the food, or 2) be heroic to save my mom embarrassment and my sister misery—eat the eggs myself.
I was about to grab the plate from my sister, when a light went on inside my greedy little head. Never one to waste opportunities to come out on top—especially when food is involved—I whispered to my sister, “If I eat your eggs, you have to do my house chores for a week.” Okay, so a three-year-old doesn’t have a lot of chores to do, but what else could I bargain with?
My sister exchanged our plates so fast, vertigo threatened to topple me off the chair.
I realized right then and there the power of food.

he he he

More Shine sisters food exploits to come!
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Categories: writing, copyediting, copy edit, proofread, food, power, eggs, babysitter, breakfast at tiffany's, sister
 
February 1, 2009 04:01:01
Posted By The Write Editor

Last week, I shared with you a list of things I would never ever do as I aged. Well, I am thankful that with age comes maturity and wisdom, so I’ve put away the foolish thinking of youth. I can’t stop the clock, hence I am aging.

To be honest, I’m slipping on some of the minor points of my Never Do promises. It’s surprising how many of my friends’ children and grandchildren are named “Sweetie.” While getting my glasses repaired, I look longingly at the beautify array of stylish eyeglass chains. With the advent of home computers I don’t have to go to The Center to play Bingo. Shoe shopping is becoming a tug-of-war with my inner child. I’m so thankful Murder, She Wrote reruns are over by nine!

But one point on my list I will never ever do, for that would be the ultimate concession in the war against aging. In fact, I have put my hair stylist on alert. No matter how much I beg, bribe, or bully, she is not ever to use a blue rinse on me. Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!

 
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Categories: proofreading, writing, copyediting, writer, edit, aging, Murder She Wrote, wisdom, youth
 

 

 
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