“You are a naughty, broken car and I’m going to tip you in the rubbish.”
“Ben, for heaven’s sake stop chucking things at the bin. You’re giving me a headache.”
“Come on, digger-crane-Cadillac, let’s scoop this old rust-bucket into the crusher. Wham-bang, wham-bang.”
“Lunch is ready.”
“Oh, but Mu-u-u-um, I’m playing with my cars.”
“Your soup will get cold.”
“In a minute. I’m just–“
“It’s petrol soup with tyre crôutons, followed by car-wax pudding.”
“Yummy stuff. Broom, broom, br-oo-oo-m. On my way up the motorway. Overtaking a police car–“
Skid. Crash. Silence.
Boy-racer in head-on collision with wall. Dial Emergency Services.
#
Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt image (c) Jean L. Hays
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Sarah Potter Writes 
That was a fun story. 🙂
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Thank you 🙂 Let’s hope that’s one boy who’ll remember when he’s grown-up, what happened to him as a child when he played cars at high speed!
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So fun! Love this!! (mom of 2 boys… totally get this!)
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Boys get so wrapped-up in whatever game they’re playing. My son used to collect some little rubbery toys called “Monster in Your Pocket”. The adventures and epic battles they fought was nobody business. They also often came to the dinner table with him, but his feeding them with mashed potato didn’t work out too well!
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A really cute story, Sarah, and the perfect pic to accompany it. 🙂
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Well, the picture came first and the story afterwards! I somehow doubt the picture was taken in the UK, so all thanks to Jean L. Hays who provided the photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.
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Glad you liked the story, Sylvia 🙂
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Cute story.
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Thank you 🙂
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:-)) Great fun story Sarah – did you start with the photo or was it the other way around – whimsical response if the photo came first!
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Whimsical it is, Andrea, as the photo did come first! I’m finding Friday Fictioneers wonderfully addictive. It’s a great challenge producing a 100-word story each week from a photo prompt. It keeps the writing muscles exercised and means that at least I complete a small project regularly.
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Edsels! Yikes!
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Okay, not being a car expert, I’ve just looked up about Edsels, which I’d never heard of and no wonder, as Ford seemed to have made a bit of a blunder with that particular model. I’m not from the US and am too young to remember the whole debacle. As for the character in my story, he certainly wouldn’t have heard of Edsels.
Photo prompt equals writer’s artistic licence 😉 Hope you enjoyed the story, despite…
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Dear Sarah,
This reminds me so much of my boys. My middle one had a perpetual bruise between his eyes until he was four. He never watched where he was going. When he was six he had a head on collision with a road sign walking home from school with his older brother.
Very cute. I loved how the mother enticed her son by making up automobile names for his food.
Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
I was a tomboy who liked playing with cars as a child, climbing trees, building camps in the woods etc — she, of the perpetual bruises and grazes. As a teenager, I once walked into a lamppost when walking along the pavement UFO spotting!
My five-year-old grandson is always bruised from this or that collision.
Glad you liked my story.
All the best
Sarah
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Funny and realistic story except I wish I could unsee “It’s petrol soup with tyre crôutons, followed by car-wax pudding,” at least while I’m eating.
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Yes, I know what you mean, Perry, about trying to unsee things while eating. Often I have gross science fiction-type dreams at night that puts me off my porridge the next morning, or two, or three!
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As a mum of two boys who were mad about their Matchbox cars, I just love this story. Clever mum too.. 😉
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Oh, yes, Matchbox cars. They were always so beautifully made. And there were Dinky and Corgi cars, too, if I remember right. Ah, reminiscence time! Some of those old toy cars are collectors’ pieces now and sell at auction.
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A little over exuberance never hurt anyone. Well, maybe it has. 🙂 Nice story.
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Poor dented wall! Come to think of it, aged about three, I fell down the stairs and dented the wooden hall-floor with my head. …Explains a lot.
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God bless parents! My daughter hated walnuts, and to make her eat one I would make a whole performance : oh, this poor little mister, he got lost, come here little mister i will help you find your way, look here is a gate opened for you, just jump in… etc. And she ate the “little misters” all right.
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Well done, that sounds like a great game 🙂 I know it really doesn’t work telling children something is good for them — that’s an instant turn-off!
I suspect that often children’s refusal to eat something is attention-seeking, so some imaginary game associated with a particular food gives them the attention they want. Never mind if it works, just as long as they don’t expect a game at every meal.
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True:) No harm to play along just to feed them these calories. Children grow fast, and in no time you get a ever-hungry teenager – the games are over:)
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Of course, then it’s persuading the teenager that perhaps all those crisps and chocolate bars might be exacerbating their acne, or that drinking cola late at night is not helping them sleep!
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perpetual circle… one generation after another…
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An engaging insight into family fun and motherly manipulations.
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Been there and done that, although in my case it was my daughter who required motherly manipulations. My son decided at a young age that life was easier if you behaved, although maybe it was just a case of him being quieter and not getting caught out with his cunning plans and clever tricks!
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Ouch!! Great fun and not so sure about the menu!!
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Disgusting menu, but each to their own!
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Yes indeed. Walls usually stops you.
Cute story Sarah 🙂
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Kids and walls are often not compatible. In my first home as a young(ish) mother, it was open-plan downstairs so there were less walls for my two to collide with, and I could keep a close eye on what they were up to when I was in the kitchen. Also the kitchen had a large patio door into the garden, so I could watch them outside as well.
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It’s one way of getting him to the table. If only the wall wasn’t in his way. 🙂
Lily
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Very cute, I miss my boys being boys 😦
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Me, too, but I have a five-year-old grandson who is far more bouncy and energetic than my chilled-out son ever was! Or maybe it’s just that I’m older now and get more easily tired.
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