No, seriously, I do. So I hope you don’t mind too much

if I share a few really bad lines that are funny.

My wife said I was immature. So I told her to get out of my fort.

I didn’t want to believe that my dad was stealing from his job as a traffic cop, but when I got home, all the signs were there.

I spent a lot of time, money, and effort childproofing my house but the kids still get in.

When I was a kid, my mother told me I could be anyone I wanted to be. Turns out, identity theft is a crime.

A guy goes to his doctor because he can see into the future. The doctor asks him, “How long have you suffered from that condition?” The guy tells him, “Since next Monday.”

and finally ...

I wish Covid-19 had started in Las Vegas. Because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

I now have 999, 994 left.

They think me a villain?

To what exactly?

To society?

To them?

All I’m doing is ridding the world,

of the people who don’t need to be here.

I’m getting rid of the ones who made my people suffer so.

I’m getting rid of them all.

The Jews, Gypsies, Disabled,

All of those WEAK,

All of them USELESS.

THEY DESERVE TO DIE!

Why do people oppose me?

I’m helping them in the long run.

They don’t see it yet,

They Just don’t understand what I’m doing for them.

They just don’t understand.

But they will,

they will see.

They will worship me as a hero,

for years and years to come.

Praise me for my genius,

applaud my efforts.

They don’t understand yet but

they will see

they will see

they will see.

In the POV of Hitler.

The goal of my thesis was to discover the answer to the age old question, “When I injure my hand, do I feel the pain in my hand, or does the pain actually register in my head?”

So I laid my left hand on the table and swung the hammer as hard as I could, striking the middle finger a solid blow. It took a good second before I could scientifically say I felt anything at all. It occurred to me in that singular moment that the reason for the time lapse was due to the pain having to travel through the nerves from the alarmed fingertip to the unaware brain. I was on to something!

So, with hopes of stopping that flow of pain-signaling neurons from reaching my brain, I delivered another ringing hammer blow to the side of my head. This worked, as the pain in my hand immediately dissipated! Eureka!

Unfortunately, when I awoke I could not remember the outcomes, and realized I would have to start my experimentations all over again.

This time though, I think I will video tape it so that future generations can see the results.

I don’t speak

Its been a tough week

It’s hard to speak up

So I sit here quietly, I won’t interrupt

I’m scared of what people think of me

And it gets so hard to breathe

I could be standing in a crowd, they could be saying nothing

But their presence is so loud it feels like they are judging

I can feel this fantasy rejection

And just like wifi, I’m losing connection

They blame it on society

That it is the reason I have Social Anxiety

But that’s not the matter

Because I feel as if I’m about to shatter

And that feeling of nervousness comes creeping quietly

Followed by the rest of my anxieties

I am a really nice person but whenever I think to say hello

My self-consciousness comes in, and its something I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow

And I see judgment in your eyes

My mind keeps producing these lies

And I’m on a steady decline

that I wish I could define

My voice I do not own

So I stand here alone

Choking on my words

While I watch my tiny world burn

Good News! I'm excited to report that, based on the entries received so far, and the entries that are promised (keep writing) we are proceeding with the anthology! If you are interested in participating and you haven't notified me already: please email me at parentsbook2021@gmail.com . There is an informational web page at www.howecreative.net/collaboration. Password is 1234. All entries are due by March 1, 2021. This will allow time for editing, compiling the anthology, and to make publishing arrangements prior to Mother's Day (US).

Following is the introduction co-authored by @mfrobs @kmCassidy and @christopherhow1 (that's me).

Let’s write about our parents and our childhood, the painful and the uplifting, the miserable and the grand, and everything in between.

The richness of so many stories, (and especially family stories) comes from reflecting on even the hardest of memories. Past events give our current stories greater depth and meaning. A joyful event becomes even more joyful when contrasted with a sorrowful event of the past, or one that looms in the future.

This anthology is not simply a tribute to the perfect mother, the perfect father, or the perfect child. Though the writing that follows presents us with many examples of wonderful parents and inspiring parent / child relationships, we should recognize that no one is perfect. No relationship is perfect.

All of your experiences with parenthood are welcome here. Whether you found a mother figure in someone with whom you share no blood, or you were adopted and your experience without birth parents shaped you in a significant way, or you have two moms, two dads, or you were emancipated, or raised by grandparents. There is breadth of human experience here to share, limitless and without boundary.

Parenthood can be a constant challenge, balancing our goals with those of our loved ones, controlling our tempers and emotions, and allowing our children to learn and grow, while protecting them from harm. Sometimes we are successful. Sometimes we fall short. Sometimes our children choose the wrong path, despite our best efforts. Sometimes we realize that we didn’t try hard enough.

There are many ways to love each other, and countless ways to demonstrate our love. Some parents express their love for their children explicitly. Others are more subtle or reserved. Some parents may not appear to express their love at all. Sadly, some parents express the opposite of love.

Children are faced with the challenge of interpreting our parent’s words and actions. This can be a lifelong quest.

With all love there is eventually pain. The most difficult aspect of the parent / child relationship is that eventually we will have to say “goodbye”. Grief is part of life. So, it is welcomed here as well.

With all this in mind, this anthology is a celebration of the joys of parenthood, childhood, and the enduring gift of a parent’s love. It is also a celebration of our capacity for forgiveness, personal growth, healing, and change. When we’re vulnerable, we can produce some of our best work.

Christopher Howe KMCassidy Mfrobs

January 23, 2021

@elleneckert@gld

@chacko_stephen

@rellyn

@victoriabowman

@mariantoinette

@Bonnieboo

@valiantraptor47

@christopherhow1

@whitewolf32@spurtsofdark@mnezz@ruby9@annelgray@mfrobs@ellacressman

@bogdan_dragos

@shayna13@ernaline@dctezcan@anarosewood@kmcassidy

@huckleberry_hoo

@jmcbee@milu@rosey_@avruss@ajrfanz@rockdoctor18@wordlove

Delores:

Delores was tired. She had been tired for a long time now. Her 86 years on Earth had been a mixture of happiness, grief, and confusion, and looking back on it now, she loved every moment of it. She knew what was coming, she could feel it in the air these past few weeks. For a long time, death had loomed over her head. She was afraid of it, afraid of what could come after. She was partly religious but more spiritual than anything else. Still, in a secular world, she felt crazy sometimes for believing that there was something on the other side. She questioned herself on more than one occasion and had cried multiple times because she could not fathom life off this earth. Now, she felt silly, so silly for overthinking it all. Her time was coming and she had made peace with it. There was no more pressure to live. She had done all that already. She had learned, loved, and lived to the best of her ability. She had climbed mountains, raised three children, and danced her heart out. Her husband was gone now and her family far away, but she felt okay. Now, laying in bed in a quiet room, she didn’t feel so alone. She couldn’t quite describe it, but she no longer felt herself. It was as if the spirit inside her was ready to join the rest of the universe. After spending some time looking at photos and reliving the past 86 years, she closed her eyes for the last time. It was time to let go.

Johan:

Johan was afraid, he was afraid of dying. Ever since his diagnosis he had spent too much time in the hospital. He heard codes called over the speakers and knew the result when the nurses walked in with blank expressions. He was 43 now, and after 2 years in and out of the hospital, he knew he didn’t have much time left. The end was coming, but he wasn’t as scared as he expected to be. He asked to go home earlier this week, much to his doctor’s dismay. Dr.Fredricks was young and ambitious, he did not like failure. Sadly, that was exactly what Johan was, another life that could not be saved. Cancer was like that sometimes, it bested even the most strong-willed opponents. The air was heavy at home these past few days. His wife had cried enough for the both of them and his kids seemed to know that their time with their dad was limited. Why else would they spend so much time with him as opposed to their phones and videogames? In all honesty, he appreciated their company, because despite knowing what was coming he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to make peace with it all, but he was still afraid. After spending so much time undergoing chemo and surgery, he was sure he could handle any pain that death brought. The fear was no longer in the process itself, but what would come after. He wasn’t religious, he never had been. He didn’t know what to expect on the other side. His biggest fear was that it would be darkness, an endless oblivion. He wanted there to be something, yet he didn’t know what. As the weeks went on, he felt himself fading further from reality. It was getting close now. He expected it to happen at night, in the darkness, but it was midday. His wife was at work and his children at school. He wanted to make it to the bed but didn’t seem to have the energy. He rested his head on the couch and knew that it was time to let go. It was time and he wasn't afraid anymore.

Kelly:

Kelly was confused. She didn’t quite know what was happening. The last thing she remembered was fighting with her boyfriend in the car. She was so angry and then all of a sudden she wasn’t in control anymore. She opened her eyes to find two women looking frantic. She heard various words of assurance, but couldn’t quite piece the sentences together. She was 23, far too young for this. She wondered where Kyle was. Did he make it out of the car? She couldn't even remember why she was angry with him. She couldn’t remember anything from the incident. She tried to get up, but her body disobeyed her. She wasn’t in pain, though she suspected that it was the shock of it all. She watched as doctors filled the room, they looked terrified and she couldn’t imagine why. What was happening? Her mind couldn’t piece everything together fast enough, yet she felt okay. She wanted to reach out to her doctors and tell them the same thing. She didn’t quite know what was going on, but she knew it was her time. It was time to leave, time to let go. It was sudden and chaotic, but she felt okay. She hadn't lived long, but she wasn’t afraid of leaving so soon. She was more worried for those she’d leave behind. As the frantic voices around her faded away, she was able to find peace. It was warm and loving and she knew that everything would make sense soon enough.

Reader:

No matter who we are, death takes us eventually. We might be ready for it, or we may not be. No one knows what’s on the other side, but I hope that none of you feel afraid as we go. Whether we are young or old, we all must go some time. It can sometimes be a long process or come as a surprise. I trust that you all find peace in the process and live your precious time on earth to the fullest. My fellow humans, I love every one of you. Do not fear the end, for the present is what matters the most right now.

-Vee

her brown eyes shined

through her growl as we played

they seemed to say "this is mine"

and her tail wagged on full display

in my hands the toy was twined

but she too had a fair say

for her teeth were of design

to catch what she wanted, even her prey

of retreat there was no sign

and so the final tug I did not delay

victorously, I held up the toy and she reclined

"promise me" I said to her "you'll stay"

like the good girl she was, she stayed as assigned

though her will started to decay

the promise could not be long kept without a whine

and so she lunged at the toy and did not obey

Promise me you’ll stay

Promise me you’ll try

You have left the past three times

Moms heart is breaking as they read your crimes

“Rehabilitation is better than walking the line”

You smurk and give her a hug

Twisting the blade until its snug

Until its deep in each one of us

Aching for you to stop

Grieving your self-created lot

You made it 3 months this time

I thought you had found that line

But now you are back on the streets

Hitting all your favorite types of sweets

Its that addiction you can never beat

The phone rings during dinner

Momma stands and hits the reciever

“Yes, yes thats him. Yes, I understand.”

Momma drops to the floor and refuses to stand

Her screams a one man band

You promised you would stay

You promised you would try

Now I hug your urn and pretend not to cry