Got Any More of This Stuff, Mom?

“Hmmm…Hmmm…Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm! Mom! So good!”

 

 

“Mom that stuff’s great! What’s it called again?”

“That’s peanut butter, Dumplin'”

“Got any more?”

“Manners, please. What do good girls say?”

“Please. Plleeaasseee?”

“What a good girl…

but I’m afraid I’m not done with this one, yet.”

“Are you sure, Mom?”

A FEW DAYS LATER:

“Hmmmmmmmmm…Hmmmm…Hmmm…

This one’s different, Mom, but just as good! Hmmm…You’re the best, Mom!”

All peanut butter tuckered out, and in her dreams…”Hmmm…Hmmm. Wake me up when there’s more, Mom. Hmmmm…”

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Credits:
Story and Photos from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg

Not Quite…

“Hi, Mom! Want me to hold still for a picture?”

“Yes, Sweetie-pea.”

“That picture felt kind of sticky, Mom…

but I know you really just want to make my eyes turn green with that flash!”

“Not quite. I really wanted to get a shot of that ‘Miss Dole’ sticker on your head, my little angel.”

“Mom…”

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Credit: Photos from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg

 

Cee-Cee’s Bench

On warm days, Cee-Cee and I like to sit on this white iron bench and pass the time away. It’s a special place for us.

Cee-Cee’s Bench sits beside the Maumee River in our backyard

But, let’s allow Cee-Cee to tell the story of her Bench.

“Mom, my Bench has a ghost behind it. Be careful!”

“No, Sweetie Pie, that’s my shadow as I take this picture for you.”

“Oh, okay, then.”

“In the Fall, my Bench has leaves on it.”

“But it’s still my Bench, and I guard it.”

“Don’t even think about getting on my Bench.”

“Yep. It’s my Bench. All day long.”

“Hey! I mean it! It’s mine!”

“Oh, yeah, I guard it from behind, too. Mine.”

“And from the front. It’s mine.”

“And from the side. Mine. Don’t touch.”

“I love my Ben…nnn…ccchhh!”

“Whew. A girl gets a little tired guarding her Bench all day.”

“Even a little sleepy in this warm Autumn air…

“

Who’s there!?”

“Mom! It’s the ghost again. He wants my Bench!”

“No, Darlin’ Dumpling, it’s just me taking another picture.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.”

“I think it’s nap time…

But I’ll always be ready to guard my Bench. No touching!”

“Mom, let’s do a selfus. I love you and I love our Bench.”

“Ours?”

“Yup. Ours, Mom. You and me and Bench.”

The lawn’s been mowed and leaves cleared and Bench is ready for Winter, the new guarding season.

THE END