|
|
Post by evie lenora rose on May 13, 2012 8:41:09 GMT -5
im glad you came. | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; background-color:#af9ea8; padding:0px;]
what more could you ask for of a june day? the sun was high in the sky, and evie had found herself on the middle of a sandy beach, her toes curling delightfully in the warm sand, her hair atop of her head in a messy bun, laid out on a long, thick fluffy blue and white beach towel. she wasn't wearing much else than her red bikini, but why bother? it was summer, and she'd spent far to much time indoors throughout the last six months, to have kept any of the color in her. she was as pale as a ghost, and for her, it wasn't a good look. her tote bag was discarded alongside her, items spilling into the sand, like the latest gossip magazine, and a pair of shades, and the edges of her sun dress. she was sure she'd end up laying out here for hours, simply soaking up the delicious summer rays. for a change, it was nice to relax, and enjoy her day. it was decently busy though, people playing football a little further down the beach, and kids running about, knocking down sandcastles, only to rebuild them again for the kids that would end up screaming in tears over a lost tower. sometimes, she wished she could just be a kid again, save herself from all of the stress of being a responsible adult.
|
CREDIT TO JENNERS |
|
|
|
Post by claudia pilar domínguez on May 13, 2012 21:39:58 GMT -5
Everyone assumed that Claudia's youngest daughter was actually her granddaughter. And then they found out that she was really her daughter and averted their gazes and gave a million apologies. But the question that always followed was the same: What's it like raising a child with Down's Syndrome? Claudia had never had a problem. Sure, her little girl did not learn quite as quickly as some children and she still had trouble, at the age of four, using the bathroom in the potty, but that was normal. She always explained these things as simply as she could because nobody could possibly understand the situation. But then their next question was usually the one that bothered her the most: Isn't it a little irresponsible to have children at your age? She had been fifty when Grace was born, but she never thought it was irresponsible. She never really told anyone, but that pregnancy was an accident. She didn't even think she had a chance, at the age of forty-nine, to get pregnant. Or at least not as easily. But she did and Grace was the result. And she loved that little girl.
Today was a perfect day for the beach. So with the little girl and the one-year-old long-haired Chihuahua she had gotten for her birthday the previous year, they set off to the beach in a red wagon. Claudia treated her little girl like any other child, which was only the right thing to do. Obviously, she did some things differently, but never to the extent that it was obvious she was "different" from the other children. She may have had Down's Syndrome but she wasn't stupid.
It wasn't long after they'd gotten there that Lulu, the Chihuahua, was running around the beach eating sand, and Grace was toddling along behind her, tripping occasionally whenever her feet sank too far into the sand. Claudia kept a close eye on her, making sure that she did not wander out into the water and get swept away by the tide. The last thing the fifty-four-year-old professor needed was to return home crying, having to tell her husband that she had taken her eyes off their little girl for all of two seconds when she vanished and was never seen again. So she watched like a hawk over her daughter as she ran around behind the little dog, giggling happily.
And then there was a small commotion, and Claudia found herself rushing over to the dog, her daughter, and a blonde woman who, before her daughter and the pup had broken the silence and ruined the peace, seemed to have been soaking up the sun and enjoying the weather. Claudia offered an apologetic look as she gently pulled the dog away and scooped the little girl into her arms. But when she started to fuss, Claudia placed her on the ground and held her hand. She turned her attention back to the woman.
"I'm sorry," she stated sincerely, offering a gentle smile. "Sometimes they move so fast, you can't keep up with them." She laughed gently. She was obviously referring to children and pets, not necessarily her daughter and the small dog... although they were hard to keep up with sometimes, too.
OOC: Don't feel obligated to reply with the same length if you'd rather keep it rapid fire. I'll try to do better. Haha.
|
|
