Tag Archives: toddler

Taking an Aging Break

“Blow out the candles, Fraser! Yay!”

Fraser Wendel Summers shook his chubby hands in delight. Two years old!

He’d been born February 22, 2009, but had taken an “aging break” in the spring of 2010. He hadn’t liked having a February birthday.

July wasn’t his favourite, either. Next time he’d aim for August.


His initials are FWS. Get it? Get it!?

It’s been a great two years. Thank you to everyone who’s been reading my stories and sending in submissions of their own! You all deserve some birthday cake, courtesy of my wife and me.

Enjoy some Fifty-Word Stories birthday cake!

I’m really looking forward to recharging for Year Three, which I’m planning to start on August 1, 2011. Until then, enjoy some more great guest stories.

Samantha is Special

Dad was jolted awake and screamed. Then he screamed again, but differently.

Mom ran in. Dad lay face-down, groaning.

Little Samantha stood beside him, holding a sparking wire.

Dad raised his head, and Mom saw… a toddler’s face?

“Samantha, what did you do?!”

“I electrocuted him,” she grinned.

Lie-Baby

“Aww, where’s mommy?” they teased. “Is baby homesick?”

And she dried her tears and lied to them.

“I’m not homesick,” she shouted, and that wasn’t the lie.

“I don’t care about my mommy,” she protested, and that wasn’t the lie.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, and that was the lie.


This story was based on a title suggested by Dan Hingston through the Facebook page.

American Idol Variants #14

“Now I know my ABCs,” crooned the little girl, “next time won’t you sing with me?”

“Awesome!” said Paula Abdul. “You’re going to Vegas!”

“But I wan’ go home!”

“No.”

“Isn’t this exciting, folks?” enthused Ryan Seacrest. “Little Kimmy’s going to be our next finalist on American Idol: Toddler Edition!”

Doody

The cowboy walked up to the toddler, who was sitting on the cowboy’s hat. “Howdy!” he said.

“Doody!” said the toddler.

“Baw haw haw!” said the cowboy. “I love Howdy Doody! Great minds think alike, pardner!”

“Doody!”

“That’s right, you’ve–” The cowboy sniffed. “Aw, crap, little pardner. In my hat!?”