A Slight Embellishment

“Mom”, Mimi complained as we were eating an early dinner together, “Mr Kelly told the entire orchestra that you were pounding on the glass door of the music store trying to get them to let you in. He said you sent him an email telling him that was why I didn’t have a new bow yet”

“Huh” was my reply. “He really believed that part?”

The rest of my family just looked at me and laughingly rolled their eyes.  Of course they just had to ask me if  I had even gone to the music store. (Apparently, they’ve gotten a bit used to my…er… embellishments) Well, of course I had gone to the music store but to simply say that is so…um….boring. 

image

Honestly, would you rather get an email that said  “Sorry, Mimi  won’t be able to play her violin as we weren’t able to buy a new bow yesterday”  or this actual email:

“Hi Mr. Kelly,

I just wanted to let you know that Mimi will not have a bow again in orchestra today.  I erroneously assumed that the Kennelly Keys was open until 9:00 as most stores seem to be.  I now know that they close at 7:00 and will not let you in at 7:16 no matter how hard you pound on the door looking pathetic.  I will make sure that she will be able to resume playing on Monday.” 

Obviously this blogging gig has started to take over my life in a small way.  I no longer seem to be able to write just the facts (pity the police officer that ever ends up with me as the prime witness for anything!) I’ve always had a very vivid imagination.  Writing just helps me to express it. 

I come by this trait honestly.  My mom used to write long letters to various family members.  (Actually she wrote one letter and copied it several times with the addressee changed.  I think this could be considered pre-blogging as nobody owned a PC back then) I used to laugh at the letters she wrote and wonder why I remembered certain happenings as being quite different.  (Much like my kiddos do?)

All of my stories are based on the true happenings of things around me.  I just happen to have a Pollyanna view of the world.  (Much to my delight, it tends to drive the pessimist that I married up the wall!) So, I plan on continuing with my tendency to embellish my world just a tiny bit. 

If that results in one of Mimi’s teachers thinking that I’m a bit of a lunatic…well…I think I’m OK with that!

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14 Responses to A Slight Embellishment

  1. Kathy says:

    I liked your note and can picture you banging on the door! Embellishment is good!

  2. Too funny. I like your version of what happened.

  3. photowannabe says:

    You are too funny. I can just picture the family”s rolling eyes and darling daughter shaking her head in disbelief.

  4. Joy T. says:

    Love the picture, very nice. And I loved this…”I no longer seem to be able to write just the facts”…oh how true, I do the same thing!

  5. Jocelyn says:

    I actually find your email more “real” than the real story–you bring voice and thought to it.

    The way someone reacts to such an email is an important test of character, in my world.

  6. My kids know that my motto is, and always has been, “if it makes the story better . . . “

  7. ExMi says:

    that’s really cool – one day, i will write excuse notes like that for my son…

    you’re a cool mom!

    xx

  8. tommie says:

    I loved parents like you when I was teaching….always made for a fun day! LOL

  9. Lisa's Chaos says:

    You, my dear, are TOO funny! πŸ™‚ I do like your version of the excuse. πŸ™‚

  10. Pingback: Overtired and Under pressure « A Slice of Life

  11. trust me, the actual email is the one i would rather read! πŸ˜‰

    that photo is just WOW!

  12. Hilary says:

    Based on fact, but not married to it. What’s wrong with that? πŸ™‚

  13. Patsy says:

    So thats what you were doing when you were growing up! Here I thought you were just out & out lying about something or other!

    I used to write the most wondeerful long letters! Humm wonder what happen! Oh I remember now. The main characters of my stories moved away! love ya

  14. Pamela says:

    my mind was full of the vibration off the glass as your fists drummed it.