When The Party Ends

Dear lovely blog readers,

Enjoy a short piece of fiction. This was written from the prompt: "1st person POV after a party."

The events are not exactly based on a true story but I think it's safe to say I've borrowed elements from true stories.

When The Party Ends

It was my party and I was going to cry if I wanted.

Amidst my keening wails, the tall lady with blonde hair that was most definitely not my mom tried to pick me up out of my mostly comfortable stroller. I cried harder, making sure to add a pitiful little gasping sound when I stopped to catch my breath.

It worked. My mom appeared in front of me and I was so happy that I reached out to show her how much I loved her by grabbing the trailing end of her ponytail and pulling as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" she gasped. I think that means "I love you too!"


She was saying something to the other lady about "nap time" and "needs to sleep" as she undid the straps of the stroller.

I pursed my lips indignantly. I most certainly did not need one of those time-consuming naps! There were new toys to try to eat and new clothes to be put away so that I could pull them off of the shelves.

But then my mom was picking me up and smiling as she cooed at me. "Little sweetheart, you look so cute when you scrunch up your lips like that!"

I wanted to explain how I was actually quite upset at the whole "nap" idea, but my mom just looks so sweet when she makes faces back at me. It's impossible to stay mad at her.

From my new vantage point, I could see that all of the other little kids were gone now, having left our little spot in the park even though it was still full of balloons. I tried to grab a bright red balloon as the wind blew it towards me, but my mom shifted away, telling me not to jump out of her arms like that. But how else was I supposed to get that balloon?

My mom held me while apologizing to dad and the other lady for them having to take down everything while she held me. As if taking down balloons was more important than holding me!

Before long, I was unceremoniously dumped back into my stroller, pushed to the silver car and put in yet another restrictive seat. I voiced my displeasure towards this new mode of torture, but my mom just smiled at me and gave me a kiss.

I kept up my protests for a few minutes longer, just to let her know I meant business, but the gently movement of the car was quite soothing and the next thing I knew, the back of the car kept going black as I tried to keep my eyes open.

I guess a nap isn't such a bad idea.

I've got nothing else to do for a bit and after all, it is my birthday.