On Thin Ice

This Week's Ten Word Challenge will be: preparation, tic-tac-toe, splurge, auction block, the bitter end, milk, papyrus, when the parade passes by, bill of lading, stone wall

Mini Challenge: polar bear, 20 seconds, get it together, spasmodic, antiquity

On Thin Ice

This week’s mini challenge:

A polar bear’s plea. Get it together. Please. In the blink of an eye, 20 seconds in earth’s deep time, a spasmodic twitch in the millennia of visible life, all of antiquity could be lost. And this beautiful teeming blue planet would become oh so lonely. Listen. As the ice groans .

Ice melting

Here’s my 10 word offering:

I would stand by her til the bitter end. But tonight, I could swear that time is drawing near.

First I heard of the Ancient Egyptian Magazine Project was when Bridget, a classmate, quietly stacked a pile of index cards one inch high onto the dinner table. My sloppy copy, she explained. Oh, is there a project coming due? Yeah, mom, don’t worry, I have it under control. Turns out it’s huge!!! They have to produce an edition of a monthly magazine with a clip art cover, table of contents, full page introduction, 4 plump articles with primary sources, an annotated bib and documented computer time. I reflexively splurge on an anthology of literature of ancient Egypt, set it in on Emma’s desk, hoping the papyrus will come alive. Each night I gently prod her and she casually delivers a sanguine progress report. I draw assurance from the steady tap tap tap of the keyboard streaming from her room.

I have a confession to make. I am an alarmist when it comes to my daughter. I am so afraid the parade will pass her by. So, on Wednesday, I eagerly offer my editing skills. She skillfully evades, claiming dominion over her work. We play tic tac toe behind closed doors. My X for her O. As Facebook robs her of her future, I become more desperate. I learn she is still contemplating an array of topics. Burial practices maybe? !!! My patience is wearing thin. The milk of maternal kindness is evaporating as the clock ticks.

Just how important is it that she complete this project? The bill of lading, I claim, is not in the points subtracted, as much as in what is missed. I am convinced that my daughter’s future is on the auction block. While she is at school, I search for the collection and some evidence of my daughter’s efforts. I rifle through Agatha Christie, the Twilight series, a tangle of leggings and toe shoes. But the book is nowhere to be found. How she managed to bury it I do not know. The tome weighs about 5 pounds. Perhaps she knows more about the ancient art of embalming than I give her credit for.

The climax: Mom, can I go to the movies with Layla? How far along are you on your project? We lock horns. Mom. Please stop trying to save me!

Let’s face it. I am the Queen of Sheba when it comes to last minute relays. I acknowledge this ingrained trait as I feverishly sprint towards Mr. Linky in preparation for this week’s wordzzle.

For those as hardheaded as we two, sometimes there’s nothing like the stone wall of a deadline to bring you to your senses.