Now I like Pigeons. When I found one injured I took it to the Raptor Society and coughed up a nice donation so it could be rehabilitated.
And for many training started young. I grew up fighting demons as many girls do. “Your father wanted a boy.” “You’re a disappointment.” “You’re fat.” “No one likes you.” “You never fit in.” “No one ever chooses you.” I’d hear their words behind the flutter of leathery wings as they came and perched on my shoulders. "Why don't you pull up your socks!"
One little guy liked to point out the obvious. “You’re clumsy, messy, loud.” Frankly, the repetition was getting a little boring and one day I looked that demon right in his burning red eyes. “You’re right,” I said. “What's your point?”
I reached down into my imagination, knitted up a fuzzy sweater and slipped it over its head. "Pink’s your color,” I told it. “And I’m naming you Ugly Truth.”
Behind me came the swish of wings, the swoop of something mean and beady eyed. Quickly I reached into my bag of imaginary tricks, pulled out a badminton racket and took aim at Incoming from that old demon Self Hate. ”Screw-up!” it screeched.
Image found at thriftshopsewing.blogspot.com
“I’m blonde, left handed, and dyslexic,” I slammed back. “Nothing I do should surprise anyone. It’s part of my charm.” Direct hit!
Self-Hate soared away, “I’ll be baaaaaccckkkk!”
"And I'll be ready." I examined the racket before dropping it back into my bag of imaginary tricks. There was tiny lettering I hadn't noticed before. CONFIDENCE. SELF ACCEPTANCE. “Come on Ugly Truth let’s go play tea party. And you could use a breath mint. Jeesh "
Where we'll be wishing everyone a Happy Pink Saturday!
And these great parties later in the week
Inspired Sunday @ Sunday View