His Happy Birthday

There once was a little boy who had a happy birthday.  It wasn’t a unique day or a special day or even a very remarkable day but for some reason it was a happy birthday.  He woke up like he did every day and did the things he does every day when he gets up.  He left his house in the morning and since it was summer he didn’t need to put on a jacket like he would when it wasn’t summer and he appreciated this very much.  The sun was shining and he imagined it was probably shining on the actual day of his birth much the same and he liked the thought of this very much.  There were a few clouds like cotton balls floating in the sky gently whispering their morning greetings and if he wasn’t mistaken, they added a little special greeting to him since it was his birthday.  He waved to the clouds and said thank you and the clouds waved back with a smile that obviously expressed their kind thoughts of the little boy for his gracious manner.  Soon he was on his way to explore the world again like he did every day until it was time to come home.  Upon arriving home, subsequent to his world explorations, there were festivities large and small in his honor, each of which he appreciated the same no matter the size and regardless of the fireworks, growling lions and adulating adorers.  He was simply content that it was his birthday and that it had been a nice day. 

cereal

She woke up, went down stairs and got a bowl and spoon out for the cereal she was about to have for breakfast.  She knew which bowl she wanted and what kind of spoon she wanted but she wasn’t sure about the kind of cereal she wanted.  She could imagine the crunch between her teeth and the cool milk in her mouth but she couldn’t figure out which kind of cereal would best satisfy her breakfast urge.  In the end she made the choice she always makes when she can’t decide which cereal to choose and so she poured herself a bowl of Good Choices, which was really her favorite kind of cereal anyways

Flying Fish

While some people like to fly a kite and others like to fly fish, he liked to fly a fish, which was more like flying a kite as opposed to fly fishing.  One day at the park, while he was flying a fish, members of the organization, People for the Ethical Treatment for Animals, which is long for P.E.T.A., attacked him for his flying a fish ways with verbal assaults that would have not only embarrassed his own mother but that would have also embarrassed their own mothersl.  Hurt and dismembered he went home to heal in the comfort of his own bed and regenerate some parts.  Meanwhile his fish ruminated in the fish bowl wondering when he would fly again, dreaming of those sky-high views of the earth below and the wind in his scales.  He was angry with those members of P.E.T.A. for interfering with the favored routines his life.  He had a long time to continue ruminating in his bowl and ruminate he did considering how one day he might exact revenge. 

breakfast at the bed & breakfast

The bed and breakfast was known far and wide and visited abundantly due to the word of mouth reputation it achieved for the breakfasts it served much more so than for the beds in which the guests slept.  Among the breakfast items on the menu, that were much loved and complimented, was one item that was not loved or complimented nor was it even understood or ever ordered, which was a single serving of squiggly bread squirrel toast said to be made with fresh squirrel, powdered cinnamon was optional.  While none of the guests could imagine that anyone would order such a thing, once they viewed that the item was available on the menu (and discovered that such a thing actually existed), they considered the squirrels that ran along the bed and breakfast grounds with much more sympathy.  They also fed the squirrels with much more hesitancy wondering if they were participating in fattening them up to become part of a future meal (or maybe side dish, they really weren’t sure)for some cruel guest that might enjoy beakingfasting on innocent squirrels with fluffy tails.  Some people assumed the tails were not eaten as part of squiggly bread squirrel toast but they were wrong as the tails were eaten, but with the hair removed of course.  In fact, the squirrel tails were what led to the naming of the dish since upon deep frying the squirrel as part of the preparation, the tail achieved a rather squiggly look, but then again, the legs often curled and contorted and looked pretty squiggly too.