Like Cinderella preparing for the ball, I prepared for a writer’s conference. My coach awaited, disguised as a Honda CRV. The horsemen were nowhere to be found so reins were left in my hands.Before I could focus on the glamorous atmosphere of the conference, there were chores to be done at our humble abode. Who would scrub the floors, wash the dishes, and take out the trash?
Certainly I wasn’t expected to do it all. It would have to be one of the
I wrote a list of chores on a scroll for my teen son to complete. All I asked for in addition to this was a kiss before my departure. The response I got was, “I’m too tired.”
Whump I whacked my son with my hand, but he did not turn into a frog. My magic must have dried up. There was no time to waste trying to persuade an uncooperative teen to see things my way.
My glass slippers
I smiled, blew him a kiss and said, “See you in a couple of days.”In route to the conference location, I changed into my
I was transformed from do it all, super mom, chauffer to writer with a purpose. No floors to scrub, no dishes to wash and no trash to be taken out. I was Cinderella for a weekend.At the stroke of 12:00 noon on Sunday, I began to pack away my laptop, spiral notebooks and ink pens. Although my weekend was ending, I would return home transformed – rejuvenated.
What is your Cinderella story?