I must explain why this picture is so perfect for this story. Taken a couple of years ago, this is my daughter, who is attempting to climb up the giant spider web after the BIG kids… my older daughter, and Geri’s son lol!

This week’s Write on Edge prompt offered three choices, all with the Olympic Spirit. Geri and I chose this one:

Synchronized Diving

Partner up with another Write on Edge writer. You each have 450 words to write about a conflict between two characters; each writer should represent a single character’s point of view.

Margo glared at her big sister. Bliss had blindly waved the kids on, saying “Sure!” without even bothering to look at the playground rules, or the sign that said “Equipment intended for use by children ages five through twelve.”

The cousins, ages three and four (and just barely four, not even four and a half,) were already attempting to climb the ginormous structure.

Even knowing it was futile, Margo had to speak up. “Bliss, this is the big kids’ playground. There’s another one for the smaller kids just over—“

“Good grief, Margo,” as usual, Bliss didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “You’re the one who doesn’t bother watching your own kids. They’ll be fine as long as we’re right here.” Bliss jiggled nine-month old Jenna against her chest, wrapped tightly in some kind of primitive cloth thing that was draped and knotted in some complicated way.

Margo held securely onto two-year-old Taylor’s hand. It was bad enough that the three and four year olds were on the dangerous structure, the last thing she needed was to have her toddler go racing after them. Fortunately, Taylor always seemed to sense her mother’s unease and stayed close. “But look at the sign…” Margo’s voice was carefully insistent; she made sure her tone was nothing but purely respectful as she pointed out the rules, “…it clearly says it’s for children—”

A loud wail interrupted their discussion. Sure enough, the cousins had fallen and hurt themselves, probably while jostling to see who could get to the top first. They always seemed to bring out the worst in each other. Margo hadn’t seen, since she’d had to argue with her atrociously arrogant and careless sister. She clenched her jaw, meeting her sister’s gaze for one brief moment before rushing to her daughter’s aide.

All she needed to know was captured in that one brief moment of eye contact. The passing of blame. Bliss’ refusal to accept that she was wrong. She probably thought it was somehow Margo’s fault that the girls were hurt.

Sometimes… being family is just not enough reason to let my kids play with this horrible person’s kids.

Click here to read Geri’s story, Bliss.

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