Woah, yesterday was my 90th post, which means that this is my 91st post. Which means that after this post I only have 9 more days left to go. That’s crazy. I knew this process would go by fast, but somehow things have made sense at the pace they’ve gone at.

Ok, so I don’t know if this will be my last prompt, but we’ll see. So anyway, let’s get at this! Prompt now. Writing after the cut!

I can’t figure out if they’re real smart or just really, really lucky.

Original Here

The paint had finished drying mere hours ago; a few smudges stained the edge of the canvas. The canvas and paint that was bought from the craft store 22 minutes before the doors closed. And the doors had closed about nine hours before the kids had to be at school. Class started at 7:30 and Vicki new she had to get her kids out of the door by 7.

Of course they’d been running late, which is why Vicki and slipped into a visitor’s parking space and rushed Kyra and Jane to the classroom. Mommy would have to tell a fib, she told the twins, but it’d be ok. 7:37 and Vicki knocked on the door, holding the painting her 8-year-olds had hastily mastermind at about 10:47. Her twins affected a sullen look, as required by the strong admonishments their mother had given them that morning will switching two lanes of traffic.

“No more last minute projects!” She said to the rearview mirror.

“Yes ma’am.” The chorus said.

“No more waking up way too late, you understand?” She emphasized the point with a honk to the slow-moving driver in front of her. Who drives 10 under the left lane?

“Yes ma’am.” The chorus said. They knew better than to match her honk with a fit of giggles.

Miss Donald opened the door. She was wearing a confused expression and a faded cotton jumper. Who wears a cotton jumper in her mid-twenties? Vicki smiled. “I’m so sorry, Miss Donald, they’re late, I know, but it’s my fault.” She straightened out her unkempt ponytail with her bare left hand. “I just, well…” She waved her hand again for emphasis.

Miss Donald put a frown and nodded her head. “Oh, yes, of course.” Vicki smiled a “thank you for understanding,” smile, not a “thanks for believing that all single mothers live in constant misery, you sucker,” smile.

“I have their painting!” Vicki held it up for inspection and tried to temper her eagerness. She realized much too late that she probably shouldn’t have been that excited to show off a hastily slapped together art project, but knew she was too far in to back out. The twins watched quietly as their teacher glanced it over. Vicki clocked their quiet time at about 13 minutes, a new record.

“Well, that’s…” She took a longer look at it and smiled brightly. “This is lovely work, you two!” Miss Donald took it from Vicki and appraised it some more. “Yes, it’s great. Very modern… With some impressionist inspiration. I see you two were paying attention when we discussed Monet!”

Vicki looked down at her twins. She raised an eyebrow and they shrugged their shoulders. She was more confused by the fact that they were discussing Monet in elementary school, a subject she read about in high school, then she was by the fact that Miss Donald liked the girls’ blobular flowers.

“If that’s it then, I’ll just hand these two little Rembrants off to you and be on my way. Thanks, Miss Donald.”

As she turned around she let out the breath that she’d been holding. When the girls had started slapping on the paint she’d been unsure of their vision. ‘I can’t figure out if they’re smart or just really, really luck,’ she thought to herself. Probably a mix of both, just like their mom.

—–

Woah, long. But yay. It got my mind off of things for a while. Later kids.

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