The Incidental Writer

     I have proved this year that I am not a very faithful blogger.  I clearly have long gaps between my posts, but it is not because of a lack of desire to be a good and steady blogger.  I think about writing and what I might write all the time, possibly too much.  But the act of writing is often a luxury I don't afford myself.  If only I could have my thoughts recorded instantly like a cartoon bubble that forms above my head.  But alas, that kind of inter-brain technology is likely a few years away.  
     Recently, to prepare for my writer's group, I needed to rely on the pen to paper method and produce an essay.  After all, it is a writer's group and not an "I think about writing" group.  Below is my offering and, in all truth, an example of why I am the Incidental Writer these days.

     I decided today's writing would be fictional. Mind you, not a loosely based fiction about a wearied working mom, either.  Today's writing will not be about my every day life.  I am more than the day to day.  I have stories to tell!  I have ideas to jot!
     "Hey Mom, can I play the computer?," my son chirps loudly.  "Yes, now go, I am writing a story," I answer.  He smiles broadly like he just won a battle and as he's skipping toward the computer I remember why.  "HEY!  WAIT!  Go do your homework first," I remind him. 
     He frowns.  "But Mooooommm, I did my homework," he's protesting this barrier to video gaming loudly.  "Let me see it, " I say as I push my notebook aside.  I check his homework, which is actually done.  He asks for food while I finish looking at the homework so I send him in to wash his hands before getting a snack.  As he does that, he sings everything he says, "I'm washin' my hands...and Mom is wriiitinggg...I.am.gonna.play.Miiiiinnneeecraftttt and then we.will.eat.".  Mind you, this is all at the top of his lungs.  My husband, who has been quietly reading, notices my son's loud singing and tries to offer an intervention by saying louder than my son is singing, "HEY!  MOM IS WRITING!  GIVE HER A BREAK, BUDDY!"
    Enter my daughter, "Mom, I forgot to ask you, can you take me to deliver the orders for my band fundraiser really quickly?  I told them I could come right away." I run my fingers through my hair like Reverend Jim from 'Taxi' or Kramer from 'Seinfeld'.  My husband asks, "How's it going?" and I begin to laugh.  The joke is on me, I guess.  My commitment to write something other than my usual commentary on my little sliver of this world ain't gonna fly today.  I wasn't feeling sorry for myself, I actually think I am really lucky.
     Right before my eyes I have such great characters.  I could write volumes about my daughter, Emma, and her stubborn, silly, smart ways or about my hilarious son, Jake, who although his first year of his life he hardly made a noise, is quite possibly the loudest person I now know.  Or I could write about my husband, Ron, whose one-liners keep me laughing when I might otherwise cry and whose devotion makes me feel secure and loved without measure.  
     I try so hard to think of entertaining fictional stories that don't involve the every day but today, I will breathe in and settle back while the story unfolds with some of the most interesting characters I know.