#kids toy bubble truck

[tinybabiebear]

cheap stores to find agere objects!

in person

dollar stores

often in dollar stores you can find a specific baby section with low-priced baby objects! though sometimes there are objects that only specifically babies can use, there are some agere friendly objects as well!! some of the things you can usually find here are:

- teethers

- sippy cups

- baby powders / lotions

- bath toys

- baby toys / blocks / rings

- stuffed animals

- hair bows / accessories

- rattles

- off-brand bigger kid toys

- colouring books + crayons

2. walmart , target, etc

though this can be less cheap than places such as dollar stores, there’s often either more options or more on-brand objects here. here you can find toys and themed objects for kids from popular tv shows, or branded stuffed animals. there’s a variety of options for many different agere age ranges! some of the things you can usually find here are:

- baby bottles ( be careful of the teet )

- sippy cups / themed sippy cups

- kid cups

- teddy bears / stuffed animals ( of shows and other popular brands )

- dolls / barbies / trucks / etc

- bigger kid toys & popular brand toys

- baby lotion / powder / oil

- baby food ( either the squeeze type / liquid or puffs! )

- teethers / ice teethers

- pacifiers ( i wouldn’t recommend, they will hurt your teeth ! )

- security blankets

- kids plates

- baby / kids books

online

etsy

etsy can be tricky! a lot of the time there are shops that aren’t sfw, which isn’t always comfortable or available for minors under the age of 18! if you’re uncomfortable with that, make sure to add ‘ sfw ‘ and ‘ agere ‘ to your searches, aswell as checking description boxes of either the listing or the shop in specific. also watch the shipping on certain listings as they can be very expensive ! some of the things i often find myself searching for and you can find here are:

- adult bottles with adult nipples ( this means that you can use them without hurting your teeth as much! ) / these can also be themed towards shows and characters aswell as have themes in general!

- adult pacifiers ( these can also hurt your teeth much less and are safer to use! )

- baby hat / mitt / boots in adult size

- adult onesies

- baby sensory cubes

- sensory objects ( chewies, sensory books, fidget toys, etc! )

- adult diapers / training pants ( make sure to be extra careful with brands if you’re uncomfortable with not sfw shops!! also, make sure to be very careful with sizes as sometimes these can be sized weird. )

- adult length pacifier clips

- adult sized bibs

- bloomers

- rattles & stuffed animals

2. amazon

amazon is a limited place for specific agere products but it has a wide variety for baby products in general! not only this, but their shipping is often very discreet and also fast + inexpensive! keep in mind shops that aren’t sfw again if you’re uncomfy with that! some shops that are popularly available on amazon are: LFB, rearz, landofgenie, etc. some products you can find here are:

- adult onesies

- adult pacifiers

- adult bottles

- adult bibs

- sippy cups + cutlery, plates, cups, etc

- stuffed animals, rattles + sensory

- adult diaps / cloth diaps

- teethers / ice teethers

- baby powder/lotion

- bibs

- adult pacifier clips

- fidget toys / toys / dolls, fandom/theme plushies + toys

- footed jammies

- changing pads

- overalls

- colouring books

- play tents

- mobiles + crib accessories

- DS + DS games

- leapfrog toys

- accessories ( ex: boys, headbands, clips, necklaces, etc )

- bubble bath / bath toys

- night lights

- long socks / paw socks

3. aliexpress

make sure to be careful here!! you can find most things that you’d be able to on amazon here, but make sure whatever you buy has reviews!! if not, it’s easy to get scammed. not only this, but it takes a long time to ship!

4. shein

shein is probably the most limited out of these options! you can find more discreet things here rather than more open things! some things you can find here + what to search for to find them are:

- onesies! i often use the words ‘ bodysuit / t-shirt bodysuit ‘

- cute water bottles!! sometimes you can find sippy cups here but they take a bit of searching for! ‘ cute water bottle / kids water bottle / sippy cup ‘ usually work!

- thigh / knee high socks!

- overalls

- nightlights

- fidget toys / stuffed animals

[saved1byabs]

strawberry blonde 💗

cw: fluff, sfw, cowgirl!abby, cutie patootie sugar drop baby girl abby, abby x fem!reader, modern au, lev!! , family strawberry picking date but lev found a puppy on the farm property

~ ✧ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @aanvime !! ILY POOKIE, RUSHED THIS A BIT SO YOU COULD GET IT TODAY BUT HERE YOU GO!!

abby smiled down at you, looking at your white and red sundress. You wore the boots she bought you, matching her own. Her white button up had little pink and red embroidered flowers that you had left after patching it up.

"is lev ready?" You asked, leaning against her chest, her lips grazing your forehead in a soft kiss. you nodded, knowing he was sitting out in the living room and waiting to make a comment about the matching family outfits.

she hummed, grabbing onto your hand gently, a lovesick look in her eyes as she looked over your face. the two of you eventually left your shared room, walking down the hallway and seeing lev sat on the couch, wearing a red button up and black ripped jeans.

abby let go of your hand after a moment, kissing your cheek and walking over to lev, giving him a playful hug as he groaned.

"abby!!" he said, his smile obvious as he hugged her back.

"shush, kid" she smiled, running a hand through his hair before pulling away from the hug.

~*••*~

abby pulled into the entry of a farm area, holding a conversation with lev as she parked her white truck. You looked out the window, a large white house on the right, fields away. On the left, there were fields and fields of strawberries and flowers.

abby looked over at you, smiling at your wide eyes as you took in the area ahead of you, lev making some comment about the way she looked at you.

you smiled, looking over the different colors of flowers, the bright red of the strawberries right beside white lilys and babys breath. you hadn't registered abby getting out of the car, but smiled down at her as she opened the passenger door for you, holding her hand out for you to help you out.

you took her hand, leaning into her with a bubbly smile. lev grinned, ready to make a comment.

"god, you guys are gay" he said, letting out a small laugh as abby rolled her eyes.

"ya'know whats gay, kid?" She said, kissing you with a smirk, your cheeks turning pinkish.

"ew abby!" he groaned, a jingling sound coming from behind him. he turned swiftly, seeing a large, scruffy german shepherd.

he wore a smile, kneeling down and rubbing the dogs ears, checking its collar and reading it.

"her names alice, shes the farm dog" he said, looking up at you and abby with a large smile. Alice got into a playful stance at hearing her name, running off into a flower field as lev followed, running off and playing with her in the tall sunflowers.

abby laughed softly, taking your hand with a smile and leading you to a strawberry field, being careful to make sure you wouldn't trip as she grabbed two baskets.

"cmon'', love, lets pick sum' berries" she said gently, one of her large hands on your back as she handed you a basket.

~*••*~

as you two picked strawberries, abby insisted on feeding you one every few minutes, the suns warmth heating them up and enhancing the flavor as the red fruit hit your tongue. she smiled down at you, wiping the pink juice from your lips.

she brought you to the middle of the fields, sitting down with you where the strawberries and flowers divided, the warm sun fading into cool autumn air. she toyed with your hair as you leaned against her chest. she hummed softly, one of the songs you made her listen to - chappell roan.

as it slowly got a little colder out, she spoke softly, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "love you, sweetheart" she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you tight in her arms.

~

[kawakalalala]

I hope you're feeling better from your injury 💜

Here's some silly writing ideas (no pressure!!):

Western AU- Outlaw Abby kidnaps Reader who is the sheriff's daughter for ransom. Over the time she's with her, Abby starts to develop feelings for her and it gets spicy from there

Medieval AU- Knight Abby and Knight Reader are in the same guard but are rivals, constantly trying to outdo the other. One day, the tension bubbles over.

Or just maybe how Abby would react to her partner getting hurt during a patrol

Alright enough rambling, thanks for reading!! Hope doesn't bother you!!

hi!!!! PUH-LEASE don’t apologize for rambling. i fuckin love rambling! and thank u! unfortunately i tried to go back to work like the little overachiever i am and made myself worse..☺️

n e wayz!

holy shit the western au has my little horse girl brain in a chokehold. outlaw abby w a little quarter horse mare :((((

on the topic of horsey abby…

rodeo!abby !?!?!? barrel races and drives a truck, competes every weekend and literally babies her horses w a million different toys and rugs and treats… spends all day at the barn w you if u also ride 🤧🤧🤧

horse show gf!abs (for my own sake i think im gonna make a whole post on this) UUUFHFHFHFHHF OH MY GOD i wish there were more gay horse girls to explain how hot this is. she helps u drive down to the venue and waits w u between classes and lugs all your stuff back and forth from the trailer :((((

i did rodeo as a kid but now i do a discipline called the hunter jumpers, which is like the bougiest version of equestrianism HEHAHSHA but ok enough

OBSESSED W SHERRIF’S DAUGHTER!R AND OUTLAW!ABBY BUT WHAT ABOUT SHERRIF’S DAUGHTER!ABS AND OUTLAW!READER!!!

cause imagine being in the town jail and eyeing her and trying to flirt your way into getting her keys but getting hooked on her 🫣🫣🫣

HOLT SHIT KNIGHT RIVALRY 🤤

ANY RIVALRY IS MT FUCKING WEAKNESSSS LIKE YES BATTLE FOR DOMINANCE PLEASE

this is a mess sorry im fangirling over things in my own head

[blueicequeen19]

Part two to this and timed 6 months later…

@fiction-is-life @haven247 this one’s for you

Warnings: none, just angst

You’d hidden it as long as you could. You’d cut off your friends. You hid from your parents. You stopped partying. You blocked certain people on your phone. You even wore baggy clothes. Thankfully, it was winter time so no one really questioned that. But two people were very persistent. They both showed up everywhere and you did everything in your power to avoid them.

Rafe knew about JJ but JJ didn’t know about Rafe. And god help you when he does. But he’d soon figure it out. Everyone would now that you were showing and would continue to only get bigger. The secret was out and you were waiting for one or both of them to corner you and demand answers. It didn’t take long.

“Is it mine?” Your hand froze on the handle of your car and you saw his reflection in the glass, his face hard as he waited for your response. You slowly turn and face him, your emotions threatening to bubble over. You expected this but not this sudden.

“No.” You said softly, your chest tight with anxiety. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, hurt written all over his face. You wanted to cry and beg for him to forgive you. You didn’t want this.

“It’s Rafe’s, isn’t it?” JJ asks, his voice cold and his expression blank. You don’t answer. You don’t have to. Word spread pretty fast on the island and it only took one person witnessing how many times you had to run Rafe off.

JJ shakes his head, his hands trembling as he scratches the scruff on his chin.

“I wish it was yours.” You blurt, blinking back tears. He chuckles humorously. His rage washed over him and you knew there was no use trying to talk to him like this.

“Do you?” His words are laced with malice and you flinch. “Seems like to me that you’re going to be set for life. Cameron won’t let his kid grow up a Pogue. You sure as fuck won’t be one anymore. We all know how he is with his toys and now you’re one of them.” Your eyes fall closed as tears stream down your cheeks. His words hurt but that didn’t mean they weren’t true. You were relieved your child wouldn’t have to go without. If Rafe decided to step up.

“How could you do this to me?” JJ steps towards you, his angry eyes full of tears. Your own anger blooms and you plant your hands on his chest, shoving him.

“Me? I did this? You broke up with me!” You cry, your vision blurry with tears.

“That doesn’t give you the right to fuck the one guy I hate more than my dad!” JJ yells back.

“We weren’t together anymore!”

“And yet you found some way to make sure you hurt me. Good for you.” JJ turns to leave but you grab his arm, not ready for this to be the end.

“You left me. You don’t get to be mad over what I do when I’m single. I didn’t plan on getting pregnant. It only happened once and we were both drunk and I felt like shit afterwards. I wanted you back but I knew you wouldn’t have me after what I did. Especially now that I’m pregnant by someone else.”

“It’s not even that you’re pregnant by someone else. It’s because of all the guys on the island you could screw, you chose Rafe. You were trying to get back at me. You wanted to hurt me.”

“Well you hurt me too! Doesn’t mean I stopped loving you!” Everything seems to freeze at your words. Minutes seem to tick by as your eyes remain locked. So much time passed that you opened your mouth to beg him to speak when he takes a step back, his head hung.

“It’s not enough.” JJ turns his back on you and heads back to his truck, leaving you broken more than you already were.

You got into your car and drove with no real destination in mind. People stared at you as you drove with tears streaming down your face. One person even tried to get your attention at a stop light but you ignored them.

It wasn’t until the white mansion came into view that you’d realized where you’d ended up. You hadn’t even exited your car when Rafe appeared. He opened his mouth to speak until you pushed the door open and stepped out, letting him take you in.

Rafe was genuinely shocked but he wasn’t angry. His hand immediately went to your bump and you wanted to back away, wishing it was someone else but it didn’t matter what you wanted anymore. You had to do right by your baby. He or she deserved a father.

You thought he’d be angry that you’d ghosted him for the last 6 months but whatever he had wanted to say had dissolved and he only wanted to talk about you and the baby. He seemed to want you both taken care of and he wanted to be the one to do it.

That night, he introduces you to his father and step mother and although you can tell they’re both faking their happiness for the two of you, you have no doubt that they will be there no matter what. Rafe seemed to crave his fathers attention and approval so you went along with whatever he told him. Plans for the baby, plans for you, plans of being a couple. Whatever he said, you agreed with.

If only you’d taken the time to return home before dinner. You’d have found a defeated stubborn blonde with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite chocolates waiting on your door step.

[kittyball23]

You Can't Harmonize Alone (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: What if there was another little Trolling present at the scrapbook storytime at the end of Trolls World Tour?

__________________________________________

It seemed like no time had passed at all by the time that the rebuilding was done.

All the villages that had been destroyed during Barb’s world tour – their structures, their decorations, their memorials and mementos – had all been successfully restored to their former glory. Only, it was better. Visually, everything had been rebuilt to the colorful manner that it had looked before, but every inhabitant resided within with a new sense of being. Because now, the six musical tribes of Trolls knew that they could live in peace with one another, celebrating their differences instead of living wary of each other.

It was vital that the young came to learn of this notion, and so the Pop Queen had taken it upon herself to educate them, reading from a scrapbook that she had made shortly after the adventure had occurred. It was one that told the history of the Trolls – the true one, that she’d come to learn.

“In the beginning we were divided,” Poppy told the little Trollings. “Our ancestors thought we were just too different to get along. Turns out they were wrong. Very, very wrong.”

The pictures she was showing them had the Troll ancestors depicted, one of them – the Pop ancestor – had a little speech bubble that read “We’re sorry.”

“You have to be able to listen to other voices, even when they don’t agree with you,” Poppy continued with her explanation. “Our differences aren’t bad. Our differences are good. Our differences make us stronger. More creative. More inspired…” She paused, showing the Trollings the pages of the scrapbook and admiring how invested they were in the story.

“So,” Poppy went on, “whether your song is sad and heartfelt, loud and defiant, or warm and funky, or even if you’re a little bit of each… it’s all these sounds that make the world a richer place. Because you can’t harmonize alone.”

Poppy beamed, quite satisfied with her conclusion and grew even happier to see that all the other little Trollings were just as joyful. The Funk, Rock, Classical, Techno, Country, and Pop kids all glanced at each other, all smiles and curiosity.

She sighed, about to close the scrapbook, when the little Trolling who’d been calmly seated upon her lap held the pages open and stared at them with awe.

“Wow!” she asked, and then looked up at Poppy with her large, familiar blue eyes. “Is that really a true story, Mommy?”

Poppy giggled, caressing the girl’s cheek and pushing away some strands of rich indigo hair that was falling into her eyes. Before she could give her an answer, another voice responded.

“Yes, it is.”

The Trolling whirled around, and beamed a little gap-toothed grin. “Daddy!”

Branch, looking quite regal in his leafy king’s crown, bent down and embraced his daughter. He then looked up at Poppy – his queen, and his wife – with a sparkle in his eye that she recognized as one of deep love. She did not resist when he offered his hand to her, and she easily took it, giving it a gentle squeeze. The words she’d just said rang out in her head again: You can’t harmonize alone. Well, that wouldn’t be a problem. Not when she had the best husband in the whole wide world by her side, and their little youngling. She could swoon about it all day, get lost in those ocean-blue eyes and the sweet sound of her daughter’s joyful giggle, though her reverie was broken at a sudden, loud CHOMP!

Poppy yelped, and Branch and their daughter gasped at the sight of Clampers suddenly biting on the scrapbook with her large, gnawing teeth!

“Clampers!” Poppy reprimanded. “Let’s not eat our history!”

The Country Trolling peered at her sheepishly, let go of the scrapbook, and grinned up at the Pop Queen apologetically. “Sorry, Miss Poppy.”

Just then, Tiny Diamond entered into the pod, groovily riding atop of a toy dump truck. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” he bopped, “I’m done with my nap, and ready to play!” He shot glitter up into the air with flourish, prompting the Trolls to all laugh.

Poppy and Branch’s daughter giggled. “Can I go play with him?” she asked her parents.

“Of course!” Poppy answered brightly, while Branch nodded. “In fact, let’s all go!”

The Trollings in the pod cheered and quickly hurried out after the Pop King and Queen, to celebrate together in a grand party between all of the Troll Kingdom.

And the music never stopped!

__________________________________________

A/N: I'm glad with the way that Trolls World Tour ended, but this scenario came to mind after thinking about the ending scene in Boss Baby (where it had turned out that Tim had been telling his daughter the story all along). Besides, if Broppy had gotten married and had a kiddo that quickly, we wouldn't have seen any proposal or wedding!

[corkycare]

✈ - an eye-opening memory

✈ - an eye-opening memory

Don’t be stupid, Corky.

She was 3, looking up at her dad as he ranted at her. She had been sent home from daycare over some stupid spat she had had with another child. It wasn’t her fault that stupid Brittney didn’t know how to mind her own business. Someone had to teach her, and that someone had been little Corky, full of righteous anger and a certain sense of possessiveness over the cars she was playing with. Brittney hadn’t even gotten all that hurt, Corky just shoved her on her butt and she blew up out of nowhere, sobbing and screaming like Corky had bit her face off. And then their dumbdumb teacher just had to take Brittney’s side, even though Corky tried to explain about the cars. So yeah, Corky had thrown one of the toy trucks at her teacher’s head. It’s not like she could have hurt the teacher - she was an adult, and Corky was just a kid.

Somehow, amidst the yelling and the anger that all of the adults were directing at her (that she was never allowed to express herself. Anger was an emotion only for adults, it seemed) not one of them thought to explain that even in the hands of a child, something as heavy as a toy truck can hurt an adult if lobbed at said adult’s head. “Use your words” they said, while they used their hands to drag her around and make her sit and take away all of the toys she loved so much. 

Don’t be stupid, Corky.

She was 8, sitting in the basement of the church while the adults did…whatever adults did when the kids were in church school, or whatever it was called. The church was important, she knew that. She knew being allowed to stay would mean the difference between getting into a good school and getting treated well and getting fewer side eyes from the adults around her. She wasn’t proper Kalosian, after all. Sure, she had Kalosian blood. But only half, and only from a mother she had never met. Adopted from out of region, she already knew that she was going to have to perform this religion and these traditions to a much higher degree if she ever wanted to feel accepted. 

But god, was it ever boring.

“Corky.” The teacher called, and she couldn’t stop the scowl that scrunched up her face. She knew if she could just blink her big brown eyes and flash the teacher a smile she might get off easier. But she was 8, and still practicing how to not let her every emotion bubble up to the surface. She’d get better at it soon, once she figured out how to put her own twist on it, but for now she was all anger and attitude. “Can you share an act of Vitalus that you performed this week?” 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to think. Act of Vitalus…her teacher had mentioned those last week, they were supposed to be things you did to preserve life in some way. Would the weeds her father had made her pull out of their neighbor’s garden count? That helped the plants in the garden live…but the weeds themselves died. No, there was no way her teacher would accept that answer. 

“Um, I let a spider out of the house yesterday. Instead of squishing it.” This was a lie, she had not found any bugs in her house this week. But it seemed like an easy answer, and a way to get the teacher off her back.

But the way her teacher’s face twisted, that condescending combination of pity and barely-hidden mirth, told her this was the wrong answer. “Corky,” her teacher said, her voice soft and slow like she was talking to an idiot. “Spiders kill other bugs. There are probably hundreds of poor little bugs that are dead now.” The class laughed around her, quiet and dignified and clearly not in good humour, and Corky wondered how spiders were expected to live at all with this kind of metric. “Does anyone else have any acts they would like to share?” Her teacher asked. Some blonde bitch Corky didn’t remember the name of put her hand up.

“I helped my mom weed her garden, so now her plants can grow properly!” The blonde exclaimed.

“An excellent example, thank you Genny!” 

Don’t be stupid, Corky.

Words she had heard over and over, from her dad, from her teachers, from nearly every adult in her life until she started saying them to herself. Don’t be stupid, Corky. You need to be smart. Need to be better. Need to be quick. Need to not be so angry. Why are you so angry? Don’t be stupid. Can’t you just stop being stupid?

She was 18, walking out of a club she had been barely allowed into holding her then-girlfriend’s hand. It was late, and in the part of town you didn’t want to be walking around alone. Corky caught the eye of a pair of police officers across the street, and quickly averted her gaze. She knew better than to think they offered anything resembling protection for someone like her. 

As she and her girlfriend started making their way towards the bus stop a group of 3 men, appearing to be somewhere in the 30s or 40s, started following them. Yelling things Corky had heard a million times over by now, catcalls and jeering and perfectly phrased vitriol to make sure that Corky and her girlfriend knew that they were not safe on this street, that this city didn’t belong to them. Corky clenched her jaw, holding onto her girlfriend’s hand like a lifeline. Don’t be stupid, Corky. They would get bored. They would leave. Trying to do anything to make it happen sooner was just going to make everything worse. It didn’t matter that it was unfair. It didn’t matter that she might be in real danger. It didn’t matter that she knew one swing from her would send this pack of cowards running. There were cops across the street. Retaliating in this moment would be stupid. Don’t be stupid, Corky. 

She kept her cool. Kept her mouth shut, while the men around her spat venom. Until one of them, sick of the lack of reaction, grabbed her girlfriend’s ponytail and yanked her away from Corky. 

Corky snapped. Grabbed the man’s arm and then punched him in the face, sending him flying across the pavement. Then it was chaos. Colère was at her side in an instant, the flash from the pokeball at Corky’s hip providing just enough cover for her to get her elbow into the neck of the man who jumped in to join the 3-v-1 against Corky. Before Colère could do anything to help, the third man was pulling something out of his pocket and spraying it into the pokemon’s face. Colère yelped and fell back, and when Corky turned to see what had happened he turned the spray bottle towards Corky and suddenly her face was on fire. 

Mace, or something like it. Corky’s cussing was only matched by Colère’s growl, the two of them reeling and squeezing their eyes shut, desperately trying to get the burning liquid out of their eyes. She could hear the three men running off, thankfully. Small mercies.

Her girlfriend helped her dab the pepper spray off her face until she could finally open her eyes. She cast a quick, blurry glance across the street, and was somewhat surprised to see that the two police officers were not making any move to come tell her off. She supposed waiting until the men had struck first was enough to save her from their lecture. Not enough to actually earn their help, of course. 

“Please, can we just get a taxi babe?” Her girlfriend pleaded, and Corky quickly agreed. She didn’t much like the idea of navigating public transit half-blind and burning. It was a semi-busy street, and they were able to flag a cab within moments. As they were about to get in, though, the police officers across the street finally decided to move from their post. 

“Hey there, buddy,” one of them said to the cab driver through the window. “Might not want to pick these two up. They’ve been causing trouble.” He jutted his chin towards Corky specifically, her eyes still bloodshot and streaming tears, clothes askew from the fight.

“Ah, I see. Thanks for the heads up, officer.” The cab driver replied, not-so-subtly locking the doors with a resound cer-chunk. 

“You have a good night now, sir.” 

And that was that. Their chance to make it home quickly and safely, whisked away with a few words from some prick in a suit. It wasn’t enough for them to just allow Corky to be terrorized. If they had the chance to step in to make Corky’s life more dangerous or painful, these men would. Anyone would. They would poke her and poke her, pulling and yanking at anything they could, terrorize her until she finally snapped and then use every power at their disposal to come down on her as hard as possible. It didn’t even matter to them if other people got caught in the crossfire. Corky’s girlfriend, sweet and funny and smart, didn’t matter to any of them so long as she stood by Corky’s side. 

Corky was practically shaking, staring incredulously at the officer through bloodshot eyes. There was a click, like the sound of flint hitting flint, as Colère flicked her tail, and suddenly the smell of burning dust floated in the air around them. Like a heater being turned on for the first time after a long summer. The air was suddenly dry, dryer than seemed possible as Colère activated her ability. This pokemon felt her trainer’s rage, and she wanted a fight. 

And Corky wanted it too. Wanted more than anything to give the word, to have Colère burn this man alive. It wasn’t as though he was adding anything to society, after all. It would be a kindness. What was it her teacher used to say? An Act of Vitalus. 

“Corky, please.” Her girlfriend begged, as the officer reached for something on his belt. “Please, let’s just go home. Don’t be stupid, Corky. C’mon.”

Corky looked down at her girlfriend. Thought about the consequences, weighed the options in front of her. Everyone always thought she acted without thinking, but that was never true. She always thought things through. She always considered the long term. She just never made choices that anyone else liked. 

“...Fine.” She agreed, recalling Colère to her ball. Murdering a police officer in the middle of the street was perhaps not the move. But she couldn’t stop thinking about that officer, and how the only time he moved that whole night was to make sure Corky didn’t have a safe way home. 

There wasn’t a goddam soul in this city that would use their position of power to help someone like Corky. That was a lesson she had been taught over and over and over again. And if they were going to bend and reinterpret the rules to make sure she came out the loser every time, what point was there in following the rules to begin with?

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 48: Friday February 17, 2023 - “Photo Reel”

What my photo reel can say about how we navigated our day together:

7:08am - Stacking garages at sunrise. I may never sleep in ever again. 10:49am - Story time at the Library, shy in my lap.  Taking in the scene.  William starts school next week, so some good socialization should be useful.  I told William that Libraries are where all the books come from. He obviously had no clue we were coming to Story time for little babies instead of nap today! 11:15am - William is caught reading “Where is the Pirate?” to another little boy with a stuffed rat. Biggest cat in the room once he figured it out. 11:54am - Holy shit, did you know Peacocks can jump?! 12:05pm - When we go to the zoo we work our way back to the Elephants, and apparently Noon is a really great time to be here, because at least today, Noon was feeding time and all the elephants were right up to the gate and what do they eat?  Cucumbers.  Check that out William! 12:15pm - After seeing the elephants, I get William out to run around and see if he’ll go hit the elephant butt.  Today he came close - but did really enjoy watching the other little boys do it.  He can point out every animal on the big donor mural back there! Even the Ostrich! 12:28pm - “Want to go see the bearded dragons today?”  “YEAAAA!” 12:53pm. - Lunch time. Zoo Fries.  Dippa Dippa. Ice.  We both love this part of the day. 2:02pm - Somewhere during the hour long afternoon nap.   Audrie asked me to try to stretch the morning out and only do one nap.  I gave it my best shot!  I kept him awake until 1:30 when we started to drive home.  I pulled into Michaels Parking Lot as soon as he was out and took advantage of that time to get some work done, hotspotting into my email.  Time is a premium.  I look up into the mirror to see if he’s still asleep and saw the most precious little boy with his Uncle Louie and I thought he looked just about perfect. 3:43pm - Time outside laying on the grass playing with the ice cream truck, turned into a big whirling dervish Dog Wrestle where all three puppies practiced their best moves and defenses to see who would be king for the day, and in practiced fashion, Havarti wins.  Because Havyvys is the King of every day here at The Finca.   4:33pm - Toot Toot.  Time to go try to take a nap because this guy is asking for Thomas The Train.... or maybe he’s pretending to be an ice cream train.  Hard to say but I look at this picture now at the end of the day and can literally hear him saying “toot toot” 7:20 - Butter Noodles are served with Potatoes/Ranch Dippa, and Cucumbers (like the elephants eat).  It took some wild coaxing (I know that was a lot of french fries dude but that was literally six hours ago!).  Even Mama couldnt coax him to eat over facetime.  Finally I got serious.  “What do you want to watch while you eat? Dora?”  “HOCKEY!”  Seriously? OK!  I found the Spartans playing Wisconsin, and William clapped and said “Lets Go Blues” and ate his dinner.  Sometimes something works and I have no clue why.  Like what kind of cheat code was that?! 7:45pm - Play time in the great room to wind down and digest that food.  Get your wiggles out running that truck transporter up and down the bench seat.  That truck transporter is early front runner for toy of the year. 7:53 -”What are you playing with there buddy?” - “Mama on the airplane.”  Now thats a heart melter.   “Mama flying the airplane? While the pilot rides?”   “Yea!” “Is that why it never leaves the ground?”   “Yea!” 8:13pm - Tubby time.  He really doesn’t like getting his hair washed.  Really its the rinse that gets him.  He’s taken to playing with the rinse bucket so that I can’t sneak up on him with it.  This kid really loves his nightly tubby time though, especially since we add the blocks to make a boat out of for Ernie and Cookie, and bubbles that smell so nice.  Its a great positive kickoff to bedtime routine and I am so glad he enjoys it and its not a fight.  I suppose we can thank mama and all those early bath times for that!  Writing about it now reminds me of how funny he was when we’d lift him up and out of the bath as a little baby.  Such great memories. 9:14pm: 15 hours after it started, almost exaclty, the day was done. Sure I had to come back in and reassure him the standard few times, but I called it with a photo at 9:14.  The bed time routine went fine.  He didn’t want to get out of the tub, and so got shivery cold as he brushed his teeth and I held him tightly in front of the mirror.  I moved him to the changing table where I combed his hair real nice with a part to the left (my favorite part of the routine), then lotioned him, added a diaper, and put on his lucky “No Wake Zone” pajamas - we might need these tonight after Mama had me take out the morning nap!  Then we read 4 books (Heads, Goodnight Hockey, Love In The Wild, and First 100 Trucks), while he ate a Peach Squeezy yogurt, the only one he’ll take these days.  He sucked it dry in about 2 minutes.  I should time him one of these days, but its very efficient. I suppose all that practice with the nipple raised a superstar squeezy sucker.  We put on the sleep sack, said goodnight to the dogs and everything else we passed along the way (elmo chair, monkey, baseball, hockey game on tv). He took some ibuprofen for his teeth, chased with some icewawa, looked at me and said “Bop” - Kenny Chesney, Nick Mulvey, Renee & Jermey, Sleep Sounds, Thunderstorm.   Bop goes the weasel and finally on the third of fourth try I had him down to stay and I snuck out.  Finally time for a break.  Turned the salt lamp up, stole a pic - the best one of the day.  The trophy prize - a happy healthy sleeping baby right on time at the end of a successful day where I planned my work and I work my plan.  The picture, at 9:14pm, of successful Dad Day.

Song:  Kid Cudi - Pursuit of Happiness

Quote:  “Listen to me son, I’ll tell you why your father is strong; Because he can still say ever single day, he’s yearning to belong. Yearning to belong, Yearning to belong,  My heart beats with a ceaseless longing of a yearning to belong In spite of myself, and all of these nursery songs My heart beats with a ceaseless, meets with a peaceless burning to belong”

~Nick Mulvey, CuCuRuCu   

[almostfancywombat]

Gossamer-Thin Meridian

It’s January, but the sign outside the airport reads 103. In the pallor of dusk,

expansive windows allow a grand view of the ocean,

of the dingy piss-yellow sky reflecting off its face.

On the frothy coasts of Achiet, waves boil and bubble,

shifting ships

stray sideways

 like bath toys.

weeping saltwater tears onto the pier.

The sky is setting, spilling pink and orange carnage. I think of that Italian place

near the hospital. The meatballs there are violently red.

I stand at the curb and raise my hand to the sky.

Lovebugs swarm my arm.

I wait until a rickety old vehicle chugs along to lower it, shedding them.

Fingers curling around the leather handle, I load my luggage into the backseat.

‘Where to?’ comes the cabbie’s gruff voice.

Break is over, so I know

where I must be heading but not why. ‘Scriabin.’

A sympathetic,

pathetic glance passes through the rearview mirror.

Message transmitted. Received.

He slinks into position and dives into the streets.

I throw my head over the back of the leather seats.

Sunlight stains my eyes. His voice scrapes against my eardrums.

Haven’t I already left home?

Questions, criticisms; hearing it from a stranger stings less than family. There isn’t a hint of inter-personality.

I get it.

It’s difficult to cope when your child is throwing 14k a year at a useless degree.

But to a cabbie, this grand travesty is conversation. He doesn’t care. The government gets paid and so does the military, so nobody does.

We, at the Scriabin College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, are revered by none. A tiny, satellite campus that hugs the shoreline.

         r           e           v         

g           Pluto       o         around larger state institutions.

        n       i       v   l

No one who ends up here deserves better.

Mediocre students go where the money is.

When a college digs into its pockets, students ought to drop to their knees and beg. When I applied, I was almost denied, but I begged.

Iasked questions no one could answer. Where am I going where have I been?

They didn’t know, so I was referred to an admissions counselor,

who referred the registrar. The registrar referred a professor.

I went to his office and waited half an hour, only for a frazzled TA to rush in.

Speaking like shoes racing over marbles, he said the professor had been dead

for thirteen days. No one knew he was dead,

died on a research trip in the Andes.

I almost had career counseling with that dead guy.

Maybe it would’ve been a helpful discussion so I’d know

how not to wind up like him.

Because I’m a follower.

I hate Achiet, I have the grand desire to get away,

to leave more permanently than winter from the peninsula.

Scriabin is not optimal for anything,

yet it only exists in dramatic contrasts.

Everyone has to take cars everywhere but parking passes and insurance are too expensive to buy. Carbon monoxide poisoning and pollution are at all-time highs yet only the people who walk die. Drivers drive drunk.

Everyone is either fresh-blooded and shrieking war calls

or thirteen years into their first semester. Some are both and neither.

Some homeless guys set up a camp in the steam tunnels beneath the school.

Nobody cares besides the kids who drive past them in BMWs.

The rest, we’re nobody.

We don’t care;

they piss less and do substantially fewer drugs than the BMW Bros

Less disruptive, too, so there’s no need to wage war

against anything. Nothing ever contests this artificial peace.

I hop out on an identical slice of the shore.

Below sea level, Scriabin sits upon mossy sands.

Today is the first day after the winter holiday.

Classes are in session yet it seems that the campus is mine. Save for my rusted pick-up truck with flaky blue paint on the sides, the parking lot is  e   m   p   t   y.

I walk the stretch of asphalt, suitcase huffing behind.

Its wheels squeak and groan with every long stride.

My trek to the dorms is solitary. The path opens with three walkways.

Each is lined with palm trees and withered plants.

There’s a welcome arch to get past, then the Student Center, an ugly modern building that was built in the ‘70s.

The pond is the only saving grace, then the space pours into swatches of overgrown grass and haphazardly placed buildings. There are several, just enough to house the meager thousand-student population.

On the piece of the beach owned by the school, there’s the I-Station, reserved for rich international students and visiting professors.

For the common student, accommodations are far less accommodating. Lined with creepers and cracks, the dorms look like reed-mouthed flytraps.

One blocky, bulky, red-chalky unit near the duck pond pulses with a faint green light. Occupying every window, the light ebbs through the windows like waves.

Accompanying the strange drone, like a piano to its violin is a gentle, stringed percussion, there is a plucking noise.

The sound of something straining and tearing resounds.

Then a final piercing screech rings out, and it begins its macabre song all over again. I don’t realize the buzzard ditty has me glued to the spot until I feel flies crawling around my ears.

The building is nothing strange.

It must be one of those Fine Arts or Engineering Department freaks—

majoring in performance arts, learning to embody the chaos or to become its proponent.

These people eat bowls of treble clefs and bolts,

let manuscripts and soundbeams

wind through their ventricles and hearts.

Music is pretty and so are designs, but who does that?

Devote their life to the intangible?

The only worse masochists are the Pre-Meds.

At least they have realistic aspirations;

anyone can become a great doctor, but not anyone can

become Tan or Paganini or Bilbao.

Most creative-thinkers won’t even become footnotes in their respective field.

Perhaps, they’ll be chronicled in separate books, referenced in larger works,

but a life in academia is one of parasitism.

Weird dorms aside, there is a culture of dormancy at Scriabin.

There isn’t much of a nightlife when most of the town depends on tourists.

The city:

has the air of a retirement village if the residents were pumped full of steroids.

is where old people come to boil and the tourists come to fry.

is where everyone is in bed before the bingo hall closes.

If you’re quiet when you pass by an alley,

you’ll hear someone puking.

With my suitcase dragging behind,

I file into the Common Hall.

This place is poorly and unfashionably designed.

The rugs are repurposed from an arcade that closed during Arcade Heyday.

The general architecture looks like it was stolen from a retro-futurism concept board.

Before I brave a hike up several sets of stairs, I stop by the mailroom. It looks like a wall of honeycombs.

The room next to mine is empty while its mailbox is filled.

As usual, I find their letters encroaching on my box. They swamp the room.

No one else is here, but if they were, they wouldn’t mind, so I don’t.

College is conformity;

going against the mold means life doesn’t get any better.

Often, I think that boy must miss his mom.

A bunch of teal envelopes and coupons to fast food chains are in his hoard.

I snag one of each from atop the pile.

If he’s gone, he doesn’t need food or heartfelt notes.

A million posters loiter on the bulletin board.

It chronicles the past better than a Joseon historian or casual Mormon.

Every day, a notice is added for yesterday.

I just missed a free screening of some avant-garde French film. The poster doesn’t feature the ubiquitous Floating Head arrangement.

No, this is a Quirky Film;

its design is compiled with geometric shapes and other elements of Bauhaus.

Besides it is another flier. With an unsightly font,

it shares how the resident kook of an author held another publishing party 

for a record turnout of seventeen.

Authors—who needs them? I’ve never read a book that stuck with me.

I stare at the signboard. Yesterdays upon yesterdays. Days lost to time.

This building’s elevator doesn’t work anymore. I miss my elevator buddy.

I drag my suitcase up several tedious flights of stairs,

then have to do it all over again one more time because I climb too high.

Recalling numbers is impossible.

Each hall:

is the same expanse of ugly carpet and beige walls

is a Soviet shoebox of an apartment, but not even those damn Commies faced as much radiation.

These dorms have issues.

Totally unfit for residency.

There was even mercury poisoning at some point.

When you shower and when you drink from the tap,

the water never doesn’t taste like lead.

A blur flies past me down the stairs.

Someone without breath, someone faceless. The darkness on their face must be their eye bags. The blur mutters about tourists with immense disdain.

Miserable students are all alike;

each student is unhappy in their own way.

No one likes having them around, but those pricing-us-out vagrants are why we have minimum wage jobs that help put us through college with hefty loans.

For now, I work at a local store.

My roommate interns in Information Systems somewhere.

Or so I hear. I don’t know what that is or who my roommate is. Maybe I saw a glimpse during orientation. Maybe not. I don’t recall anyone else being there.

I venture down an identical hall.

I stop before a door that is only distinguishable from the others because I draw on the little whiteboard hanging outside.

Halting, I erase the weeks-old doodle with my sleeve and replace it. A grotesque face with a ghastly expression, giraffe-like neck, and spindly body replace the old.

Cap between my teeth,

I slide the marker in, skimming my lip.

I attach it to the board and kick the door open.

Decisively,

unpacking is tomorrow’s chore.

I toss the suitcase inside, retrieve my bag

then trudge back down the stairs and head back to the first floor.

When I emerge, it takes a while, but I keep blinking and blinking,

then they’re all there. People, loads of them;

in the building

worming across the grass

slinking across and hissing like snakes before they slither over sand into sea.

There isn’t Greek Life or anything interesting, but Scriabin

has the Quad Gods, who perch by the welcome gates like unsightly gargoyles.

They’re all athletic in some way.

One does track. One does CrossFit.

The third does semi-competitive figure skating.

I wonder where he finds the time to skate and where he first found a rink.

They’re all fairly attractive.

They are all spindly and look like they don’t have waists.

With excessive handsomeness and vanity,

one of them ought to be the god of something,

but there’s a bunch of fanatic old people here.

Deities shouldn’t be spoken of so casually.

To most, the only god that exists is the only one you won’t ever see.

I don’t know if anyone has ever seen these guys away from their spot,

so in a way, one of them might be a god.

They’re always perching by the entrance gates, covered in dust like they haven’t and won’t move for years and years and years.

Now that I look, I realize I don’t even know their names.

I know them, but how?

Do they even go to school here? Who knows? Who cares?

Outliers significantly affect statistical values;

they’re why Scriabin has such a terrible reputation with sexual assault cases—

among students, they shoulder the blame.

If you don’t look, they won’t pounce.

With better things to do, I keep my head down.

Staring at them won’t go to the lecture that will explain the homework that will help me prepare for the test that will ensure I get a good grade at College-ing so I’ll have a job that will pay for a little picket fence in the suburbs someday.

The Faculty of Psychology is halfway across campus, right in front of the duck pond. Its glass facade reflects against the disturbed water. Jets keep it churning so the fish occupying it won’t die. Benches line the perimeter.

Perfect for my kind of student;

besides Architecture, Psyche students are most prone to tears;

being aware of your emotions, the sentience of grass,

believing that people should be skinned with life-long labels,

that not confining them to a box

means a life condemned to misery does mess with the nerves.

Brain Science is more neurosis than neurology

a neurologist can recite physiology and stimuli, but a psychiatrist is a mystic.

I enter the building. It’s like an anthill in there,

people lugging heavy bags around, rushing upstairs, across every hall.

They all look like they’re running, but no one goes anywhere.

Instead, they circle and circle. They’re all moving so fast, almost like a time-lapse.

I keep my head down and ascend to the second floor.

The elevator here works but I don’t even go near it

because it’s cursed and you need a buddy if you want to use it.

When I reach the lecture hall,

I find that it’s empty.

Peeking inside, I check the schedule. Displeased with the results, I check it again.

I already took Psych 101 last semester. Maybe I failed.

Damn American higher education. It wants to drain everybody of everything.

If anyone had told me it would be so difficult to stay in college,

I wouldn’t have got in.

Maybe if not, I’d be learning how to weld,

or embalm bodies somewhere in the Midwest,

or I’d be a goat farmer in Uzbekistan.

Maybe my class is supposed to be in the library today.

It’s Monday. Those are Independent Study Days. 

Hear:

when the professor doesn’t feel like coming to class, so we all trudge to the library to make the most of the day while we’re still inspired.

Every day feels like Monday, but I never feel like going to the library.

Too many geeks and nerds typing

click-clack on computers instead of writing notes.

Too many annoying people with millions of highlighters and washi tape.

Too many revolutionary ideas to steal.

I concentrate on child psychology because their minds are difficult to understand

and I don’t want to understand anyone who might be like me.

As a minor, I take Spanish.

Still don’t speak a word of it.

I listen to videos that are meant to teach me Arabic but it’s useless in America

unless you want to go somewhere and work in intelligence

or read the best, most soul-searing poetry.

Before leaving, I step inside.

The lecture hall rises in a spiral; slats of windows line the ceiling,

Stale-aired and tasting of salt.

I look at the chalkboard,

AstroTurf Green marred by white.

I run my fingers against it.

Chalk peels away and disintegrates in lukewarm hands.

When my stained fingers rise to meet the board again,

I discover a message I hadn’t seen before.

“HOW DO YOU FLOAT?” in thick, large letters.

As if swiped away by an unseen hand, they smear.

A carving on the board becomes clear, but I’m busy viewing the torrent threatening to consume the words.

Swirling around it are mutterings and psych-ward doodles,

the kind of things you might draw on a stall in a public bathroom.

At the center is a figure composed of haphazard lines.

Outlines, something lacking shape.

With a dull hum, the projector flickers to life.

Faint outlines appear on the board in puffs of chalk smoke. Nails screech across the surface. Watery hands rake along it, desperate to find purchase.

The hurricane abates. The figure stills, staring ahead.

Before it solidifies, I drop my bag onto the floor and scamper out of the building.

[jellostories]

AJ the Very Whimsical, Ch. 11: The War in the Snow

To Callie and Boyd

AJ grinned from ear-to-ear as she looked out her living room window at the fluffy, pink blanket covering the outside world. It was snowing in March -- how amazing was that!? And furthermore, snow in this bizarre world was purple, AJ's second favorite color! 

2ND FAVORITE COLOR + SNOWY FUN + NO SCHOOL TODAY = SUPER-DUPER-ULTRA-ULTIMATE AMAZINGNESS!!!

AJ clasped her hands together and squealed in excitement, then she ran to the coat closet by the staircase, opened the door, and grabbed her winter gear: a pink/magenta-striped scarf, a purple wool coat that fell below her knees, matching mittens, brown leather boots, and a white sock hat. Like most of the Arquette girls' clothing, this winter gear had been either fished out of the dumpster or purchased from local thrift store ThreadBear Inc.

AJ threw on her winter gear, bounded out the door (and then closed the door gently, like her mommy had told her to), and plopped, face-first, into the snowy wonderland that had engulfed her entire front yard.

"Yaaay! Snow!" the silly girl cried joyfully. 

She flipped onto her back and made a snow angel. She was in such a good mood, she didn't even care that her snow angel ended up looking more like a snow oval. She just shrugged ("Oh, well!") and played other snow-related games, like "Rescue the Cat From the Tree Even Though the Fire Truck is Stuck in a Snow Ditch" and "Save Surly From Being Buried Alive in the Snow". Surly was happy to participate, and he even brought AJ's toy fire truck out for her (AJ waited about eight minutes before she got tired of waiting and carried her turtle the rest of the way outside).  

AJ was in the middle of saving Surly from her "evil twin" Abbey when WHAP! A snowball hit her in the back of her head, almost knocking her hat off in the process.

"'EY!" AJ exclaimed, fixing her hat and glowering in the direction the snowball had come from.

To AJ's dismay, however, she found not her attacker, but Twist's twin sisters, Pepsy and Pizza, instead. The twins were standing at the edge of the Arquettes' lawn, giggling and holding snowballs in their gloved (or puppeted, in Pizza's case) hands.

"Girls!" AJ said, running over to the twins and shaking them by their shoulders. "You've got to 'elp me! Gary ze Eenvisible Boy eez throwing zings at me again! Queeck -- I need a bag of frozen cheecken nuggets, some syrup, and a peecture of a girl weeth a feeshstick in 'er hair!"

"Oh, AJ," Pepsy said, still giggling, "we’re -- hick! -- the ones that hit you, not 'Gary ze Visi-whatever'!"

"Yeah, it's called a snowball fight!" said Prancer. "Twist taught us how to do it last year after we played with her barnyard set without asking. Nearly frozed our backs off, she did!"

Both twins shivered at the memory, but AJ (who'd only seen the "pull-your-hair-until-you-say-you're-sorry" side of Twist's temper) launched back into super-bubbly mode.

"Oooh, anuzzer snow game?" she said with the usual twinkle in her half-hidden eyes. "Can I play? Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, si'l vous plait weeth a grape on top because I don't like ze cherries?"

The twins glanced at each other before turning back to AJ.

"Mmm-mmm!" Pizza mumbled, shaking her head.

"Yeah, what -- hick! -- she said," Pepsy said, pointing to her flower-cheeked twin with an ill-disguised smirk.

"Awwww, zat's not fair!" AJ pouted, stomping her foot. "I'm cute and good at throwing things! See? Look!"

Before the twins could say anything, AJ scooped up a snowball in each hand and threw them, whapping Pepsy and Pizza in the face.   

(Editor’s note: No one involved in the running of this blog encourages any little kid to use "But I'm cute!" as a valid excuse to pelt your friends with snowballs. Doing so would be an -- admittedly hilarious -- jerk move).    

Stone/cold-faced, Pepsy turned to her twin: "That -- hick! -- tickle monster thingy Mom does to us?"

Pizza nodded. "Mmm-hmm!"

AJ cocked her head in confusion. "What's ze 'teeckle monster zingy'?"

The silly girl didn't have to wait very long for an answer. A nanosecond later, the twins rammed into AJ's colorfully stocking’d legs, knocking her down in the snow. The silly girl tried to ask the twins "what ze 'eck" they were doing, but she was rendered unable to do so when they started mercilessly tickling her.

"Hee-hee-hee -- o-ok, g-girls -- hee-hee-hee," AJ choked out in between her uncontrollable giggles, "y-you can--pfft! Hee-hee -- you can...s-stop now--HAHAHA! Si'l vous plait!"

Pepsy and Pizza ignored the older girl and began attacking her ticklish spot (two inches above her belly button), making her scream with out-of-control laughter. Fortunately for AJ, however, she'd learned how to shake off hyperactive underclassmen at school. 

The silly girl took a deep breath...

"Alright, keeds! Upsy-daisy!" she declared in her best attempt at a throaty voice as she stood up and pushed the twins off of her like they were nothing more than wood shavings.

"What's a 'keed'?" the twins asked in unison while their elder playmate dusted the snow off of her jacket.

AJ finished dusting herself off and shrugged. "I don't know. Mommy and Madame Teacher just call me and my amis zat sometimes, even zough we've told zem at least a bazillion and two times we're childr--YAAAAAGHH!"

The silly girl stood bolt upright and let out a blood-curdling scream that rattled her house's windows and made the twins wince and cover their ears.

Once it was safe, the twins uncovered their ears and peered curiously into AJ's now-flushed face.

"What's wrong, Miss AJ?" asked Prancer. Her owner had a nervous frown on her face.

"S-Somebody p-poured sn-snow down my b-back," AJ answered. She was shivering as she pulled her shirt and jacket back and let the snow fall out. "I w-wonder 'oo would do s-so c-cruel a zing to a c-cute, leetle g-girly like m--" AJ gasped dramatically and let go of her shirt, wincing as some of the remaining snow fell into her boots.

"Le jeepers! 'Ow deed I not realize eet was 'im sooner!?" The silly girl smacked herself on the forehead a little harder than necessary. "Le ouchie!" 

Looking surprisingly serious for once in her carefree life of fun, the silly girl stepped closer to the twins put one hand on each of their shoulders. The younger girls found this gesture extremely unsettling, and the fact that they were tall enough to see AJ's crazy green eye at this angle didn't help, either.

"Leesten to me, girls," AJ said in a serious voice, which sounded quite unlike her usual high-pitched chirp. "I 'ave two super-super-super eemportant zings to tell you, and somezing really bad might 'appen eef you don't leesten to me. 'Ka-peace'?"

Pepsy and Pizza gulped as their knees began to quake and tremble. Being only six years old, many things were still a mystery to the twins; however, they were still able to tell when something was scary or out-of-the-ordinary, like AJ looking serious.

Not sure what else to do, the twins nodded at their big sister's uncharacteristically stern-looking best friend, allowing the second-mentioned to spin her tale.

"First off," AJ said after a few seconds of clearing her throat, "I zink Gary ze Eenvisible Boy eez out 'ere in Nevada -- for real zis time. Legend 'as eet 'e comes 'ere every weenter to prank every Nevadian 'oo crosses 'is path to 'elp vent 'is anger from constantly losing at ze 'gun-sino'. Most of ze time, 'e'll pour snow down your back or geeve you a noogie or pour eetching powder down your pants, but sometimes 'e'll take a magic blue paintball and dunk eet over your 'ead, geeving you a 10-day long seeckness from hell--ze cold turkey!"

Pepsy raised her hand.

"Oui, Mademoiselle 'Olloway?" AJ said with a playful giggle.

"What's a -- hick! -- 'gun-sino'?" asked Pepsy.

"Eet's sort of like an arcade for grownups. Zair's an 'ole bunch of flashy, spinny games you put quarters eento, and eef you're lucky, ze game weell speet out a zillion more quarters at you! Le sigh..." AJ sighed longingly as she glanced away from the twins. "I've been wanting to play one of zose games for years, but whenever Mommy and 'er boyfriend go zair, zey always make me stay een ze so-called 'keed area'."

A moment of silence fell upon the three girls (four, including Prancer).

"So it's like a casino?" Prancer finally asked, breaking the silence.

AJ laughed. "Don't be seelly, Prancer. A 'gazino'...pah!"

Pizza clenched Prancer's mouth down, and made a noise like an angry biker eating a peanut butter & jelly sandwich: "Mmmmmmmmmhh!" This little girl(’s puppet) did NOT like being told she was wrong.  

"And finally," AJ said, grabbing the twins' attention again, "...fire trucks are cool."

Pepsy, Pizza, and Prancer's jaws dropped seven inches.

"Fire trucks?" Pepsy and Prancer echoed in united confusion. "What the heck do fire trucks have to do with the 'divisble' boy you were talking about?"

AJ shrugged. "I don't know. I just really like fire trucks! Zey 'ave 'oses zat spray ze water weeth a big FWHOOSH! And ladders zat shoot out with a WHIRRRR! And sirens zat go, WHOOOOH, WHOOOOH!"

The silly girl smiled warmly and obliviously as the twins exchanged confused glances that spoke volumes about their thoughts about their big sister's best friend: "She's weird. Like, REALLY, super-not-cool-weird." "Yeah, can't get much weirder than her."

Suddenly, AJ's front door opened, and out stepped her mother in a navy-blue bathrobe.

"AJ!" Blaze called. "Time to come eenside! Queeckly, before ze Gary geeves you ze cold turkey!"

Cold what now? 

Pepsy and Pizza's eyes became glassy and dopey-looking, and their open mouths began to ooze drool; the Arquette-ly weirdness was too much for their six-year-old brains to handle.

Contrariwise, AJ's eight-year-old brain understood her mother's orders perfectly, thanks in no small part to it being filled with monsters and froggies and grapes and kitties.

"OK! I'll be right zair, Mommy!" the silly girl called back to her mother, cupping her hands around her mouth. 

Turning back to the twins with an ear-to-ear grin, AJ gave them each a bone-crushing "bear-'ug" that made them snap out of their trance and start gasping for breath.

"Le ahhh!" the silly girl sighed after she'd released Pizza, wrapping her arms around herself now. "I just love 'ugs! Eef only ze school bullies would geeve me zose eenstead of purple-nurples or wedgies..."

Doing a little twirl, AJ skipped over to where Surly was eating snow and picked both him and her fire truck up, then she turned back to the twins and waved goodbye. 

"Au revoir, girls! Tell Tweesty I said 'bonjour!" she said.

Still too winded and frazzled to talk, the twins simply nodded.

And with that, AJ skipped cheerfully inside her house, her mother waving and shutting the door afterwards.

After the Arquettes had gone inside, Pizza turned her face and her puppet towards her bracelet-wearing twin.

"You know that paper AJ had us sign?" Prancer asked.

Pepsy had to think for a little bit. "The one that made us her -- hick! -- 'sidekins' or 'sidedishes' or whatever she called it?" she finally said.

"Yeah, that one," Pizza had Prancer nod her head up and down. "Let's ask Dad if we can shred it!"

Pepsy grinned at her puppeteering twin. "Heck, yeah! I don't wanna be -- hick! -- the 'sidekin' to some weirdie who thinks a 'divisible' boy is gonna -- hick! -- give her something called a cold--um--a cold..."

"Cold tiger?"

Pepsy shook her head. "No, I think it was some kind of bird..."

While the twins were talking, a couple of sparkling, basketball-sized, blue-colored paintballs started floating towards them from behind. Footprints appeared in the snow the closer they got to the girls, almost as if they were being carried by someone invisible...

Pepsy didn't notice the paintballs until they were hanging right over her and Pizza's heads.

"Pizza, look out!" the bracelet-wearing twin yelled.

But it was too late; the paintballs were dropped over the twins' heads, covering them in blue oba-dee-oba-die goo and making them start coughing their lungs out.

"IT'S GARY THE 'INVIS-BEL' BOY!!!" the twins screamed in terror.

They ran back home as fast as their little legs could carry them, screaming and wheezing and crying for their mommy.

"Don't stop believing, you little money-stealers!" the invisible boy yelled after them.

[kanisema-blog]

Mafia Nanny

Chapter 17: Laughter in the Park

The sun hung high in the clear blue sky as Wyatt and I walked to the park, a sense of anticipation bubbling between us. The events of the previous days had cast a long shadow, but today, we were determined to find a moment of normalcy. Wyatt's hand was warm and small in mine as we approached the playground, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the swings and slides.

"Can I go play, Hannah?" Wyatt asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

"Of course," I replied, smiling down at him. "Go have fun."

He let go of my hand and ran towards the playground, his laughter echoing through the air. I found a bench nearby, settling down with a contented sigh as I watched him interact with the other children. It was heartwarming to see him so carefree, his earlier fears momentarily forgotten.

As I watched, a small group of kids gathered around Wyatt, their voices a happy jumble of introductions and laughter. Wyatt's face was alight with joy as he joined them in a game of tag, his legs pumping as he chased after his new friends.

I leaned back, letting the sun warm my face. It was a beautiful day, the park alive with the sounds of children playing and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a sense of peace.

"You're doing great, Wyatt," I murmured to myself, my heart swelling with pride as I watched him navigate the playground with ease. His resilience was a constant source of inspiration, a reminder of why I fought so hard to keep him safe.

After a while, Wyatt came running back to me, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling. "Hannah, did you see me? I made so many new friends!"

"I did," I replied, smiling up at him. "You were amazing out there."

"Can we come here more often?" he asked, his expression hopeful. "I like playing with other kids."

"We'll come as often as we can," I promised, ruffling his hair. "I'm glad you had fun."

Wyatt beamed, the weight of recent events seeming to lift from his small shoulders. "Thanks, Hannah. You're the best."

I chuckled softly, pulling him into a gentle hug. "No, Wyatt. You're the best."

He grinned and ran back to the playground, joining his friends for another round of tag. I watched him, my heart full of a quiet kind of joy. These simple moments, these fleeting glimpses of happiness, were what made everything worthwhile.

As the afternoon wore on, the park filled with families enjoying the sunny day. I exchanged polite nods and smiles with other parents, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite the different paths our lives had taken. For now, at least, Wyatt was just another kid enjoying a day at the park.

A little girl approached Wyatt with a shy smile, offering him a toy truck. He accepted it with a grin, and soon they were playing together, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the park. It was a beautiful sight, a reminder that despite the darkness that sometimes enveloped our lives, there was still light to be found.

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the playground, I called Wyatt over. "Time to go home, buddy."

"Already?" he pouted, but there was no real resistance in his voice. He was tired from the day’s activities, his energy spent in the joyful abandon of childhood.

"Yes, it’s getting late," I said gently. "We can come back another day."

He nodded, his earlier disappointment fading as he took my hand. "Okay. Today was really fun, Hannah."

"I'm glad, Wyatt," I replied, squeezing his hand. "You did a great job making new friends."

He smiled up at me, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks for bringing me here."

"Anytime," I said, my heart swelling with affection for this remarkable boy. "Let’s head home."

As we walked back to the mansion, the events of the day played over in my mind. For a few precious hours, we had escaped the weight of our reality, finding solace in the simple joy of a day at the park. It was a reminder of the strength and resilience that lay within both of us, and the hope that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

[aksharaentertainments11]

Types of 3d themed decoration

Certainly! 3D-themed decorations can add an extra dimension of excitement to a birthday party. Here are some engaging ideas for a blog post:

Space Odyssey: Transform the party space into an intergalactic adventure with 3D planets, stars, and spaceships hanging from the ceiling. Use black tablecloths as the backdrop, and add glow-in-the-dark elements for an extra stellar effect.

Underwater Wonderland: Dive deep into an underwater fantasy with 3D fish, seahorses, and corals. Hang blue and green streamers to mimic the ocean, and incorporate bubble machines or balloon bubbles for a bubbly ambiance.

Jurassic Park: Bring dinosaurs to life with towering 3D T-Rex, Stegosaurus, and Triceratops decorations. Set up a fossil excavation site where kids can dig for dinosaur bones, and add jungle foliage for a prehistoric atmosphere.

Enchanted Forest: Create a magical woodland with oversized 3D mushrooms, fairies, and woodland creatures. Use twinkling fairy lights and lanterns to illuminate the space, and scatter faux moss and leaves for an authentic forest floor.

Superhero Spectacular: Assemble a superhero headquarters with 3D buildings, skyscrapers, and cityscapes. Hang superhero capes as bunting and set up photo booths with life-size cutouts of favorite superheroes for memorable snapshots.

Candy Land Carnival: Build a sweet paradise with giant lollipops, candy canes, and cupcakes. Create a candy buffet with 3D candy props and incorporate interactive games like a bean bag toss or ring toss with candy-themed prizes.

Alice in Wonderland Tea Party: Transport guests to Wonderland with oversized teacups, playing cards, and pocket watches. Set up a whimsical tea party with mismatched chairs and tables adorned with colorful 3D decorations.

Pirate Adventure: Embark on a swashbuckling journey with 3D pirate ships, treasure chests, and skulls. Create a treasure hunt with clues leading to hidden treasures, and encourage guests to dress up as pirates for added fun.

Construction Zone: Construct a bustling construction site with 3D bulldozers, cranes, and traffic cones. Use caution tape as bunting and set up a sandbox for kids to play with toy trucks and diggers.

Hollywood Glamour: Roll out the red carpet for a glamorous Hollywood party with 3D movie reels, stars, and spotlights. Set up a photo booth with a Hollywood backdrop and props like sunglasses and feather boas for a touch of movie-star chic.

Each theme offers a unique opportunity to get creative and transform any birthday party into an unforgettable experience!

We are one of the best 3D theme decorators in Hyderabad. Our organizers do the best of their ability to present you the party you always wanted to throw. We anticipate providing our customers the best of the services. Hence, if you are planning a birthday party anytime, we are the people who could make the best of it!

[declanfs]

10/22/23

Quick little hike at the battlefield, and by quick I mean 3.5 miles of carrying your through the forest. You did not want to ride in the backpack. You did RUN the first .2 miles. Then I gave you a piggy back ride until my arms got too tired and then dada carried you for like 1.5-2 miles. I carried you the last mile or so I think, but it might not have been that far and just felt like it because you weight 32 pounds and are very long. It didn’t help that it was cutting into your ideal nap time, so we can’t blame you.

We saw lots of cool mushrooms, a baby copperhead (possibly), and a cool green and purple caterpillar. I didn’t take many photos because it’s hard to take pictures when your arms are full of a baby.

You still love magnatiles, and this is a house you built all by yourself. You love to make “cloud towers” like from Tumble Leaf and sometimes they are so tall that you have to use a step stool to stack the pieces on the very top. You like to pick things out of the book for me or dad to make, and then you really like to smash them all up. We make garages for mater and lighting McQueen, for your monster trucks, and have made a zoo for your animals and many other random things I can’t remember. I just really liked this thing that you made all by yourself, it looks like a castle and is very arty with how you stood some pieces up and laid others on their sides. It’s fun to watch you play on your own because you get in a super focused zone and you’ll play for 15-20 minutes singing songs to yourself and talking for you people or just talking to yourself as you figure out what you’re doing.

Sometimes your toys get stuck or are falling down and other toys have to help them. Sometimes you just line up every single block or car or magnatile in a line that is like 3 feet to 30 feet long depending on what you are using. Earlier you spent a good chunk of time pouring water into your new balance scale thing. You’re a very skilled pourer and I don’t think you spilled even a drop.

Today you actually helped me with toy rotation. You tell me which toys you want to keep out or put away (usually it’s putting all the last week’s toys away), and then you are entertained for a good hour or more because all the “new” toys pull your play in all kinds of directions. This week the train table has all your construction vehicles and kinetic sand. The playroom has the ABC puzzle, some books, your rock and roll monster truck, the lovevery flowers and peg board, and bubble blowing train that pop and Deedee got you for Christmas last year. You were afraid of the train at first because it’s kind of loud and it didn’t help that it fell on your toe at one point, but now you love it and it played for like 30 minutes straight with its very loud music. **cringe smile**

The last little update is that we went to Belvedere with Granny on Friday. She took the day off and it was perfect. It was a bit cool and the rain didn’t start until we were driving home. Your favorite favorite part was probably the corn maze. I’m going to add two more videos from this day (slide + maze), but you loving the maze was such a funny surprise to granny and me. It’s like you knew exactly what to do and exactly where to go and you basically ran through the entire thing to lead us to the exit without getting lost once. You were gleefully and maniacally laughing as we could barely keep up with you as you raced around the corners, but it was so fun. You wanted to hide in the corn and jump out to scare granny and you were so pleased with yourself about following the paths and leading the way. You are such a joy.

You are still unsure of the big bouncy pillow. I think you are deterred by all the other kids being on there and jumping and running around in complete chaos. Which I totally understand, I bet it feels really scary to be so small and to see all these other bodies bouncing and running around with no predictability. At one point, another boy spun around and his foot barely grazed the top of your head. I don’t even think he noticed because you fell at almost the same exact time and his sock probably skimmed the top of your hair, but you noticed. You said “mama, he kicked me.” So the next time he came over I tried to advocate for you to teach you how to talk to the other kids and how you have to stand up for yourself, but it’s sooo hard. I mostly just made observations about how he almost kicked you on accident and then talked about how it was lucky that no one got hurt. This is so tricky because I don’t know where that kid’s adult was and I feel like all adults handle things differently. And I’m sure that 99% of adults would prefer to handle situations with their kid on their own. But, I promise to work on this. To strengthen my voice so your voice will be strong too.

Another favorite was the corn pit. This was our second time here in two weeks so you knew what you did and did not want to do. The corn pit, the pig races, feeding the animals, the big bubbles, and the obstacle course thing were on your YES list.

Being a pig pal and the zip line swing things were on your NO list. You enjoyed the slide a lot, but we did not do it as much as I expected. I definitely want to go back to Sneads so you can do their mountain slides again, especially if we go on a weekday in the beginning of the week and no one else is there!

We opted to get pumpkins at the store because Belvedere is so expensive and we ran out of time to go on the hayride before they closed at 2. I’m not sure you would have wanted to anyway though, so it’s all good and we will try again next year.

[leeharrington]

When most people outside of the BDSM community talk about Age Play, images like adults in diapers tend to turn a lot of folks off (even if that can be fun). But Age Play for consenting adults can be SO much more! If you want to explore the various aspects of age play, join me and Wicked Grounds on February 15th for "Kissing Cousins: Age Based Roleplaying and Desires." We will explore personal, cultural, and universal archetypes of parenthood, childhood, and all kinds of kidhood and adultdom to find a voice for our own diverse desires… from naughty teenage girlz (who says kidz are bottoms?) to packs of boy scoutz. Let’s look at pre-verbal, toddler, school kid, teen, and a wide variety of adult roles that we can enjoy for roleplaying or lifestyle identities. Daddies, Mommies, other familial roles will be explored, as well as how to incorporate age play into your other kinks, while we also touch on the land mines of our pasts and helping kidz and adultz who have been emotionally hurt by past kink relationships. This class will run online worldwide from 6-8p PST (7-9p MST, 9-11p EST). Buy tickets today: https://forbiddentickets.com/events/wicked-grounds/2023-02-15-online-kissing-cousins-age-based-roleplaying-and-desires [Description: The square is divided into four sections: two pink and two yellow. In the top left pink section, blue text reads, "Kissing Cousins. Age Based Roleplaying and Desires." Below and to the right of the text, there is a picture of a teddy bear, truck, and other kids toys shown against a white wall. At the bottom right of the picture, black text inside a white bubble reads, "2/15. 6 pm PST. 9 pm EST." At the bottom left of the picture, black text inside a white bubble reads, "with Wicked Grounds." Pink text reads, "Link in Bio."] #AgePlay #ADBL #DDLG #DDLB #MDLG #MDLB #Dominance #Submission #Roleplay #Kink #KinkEducator #KinkEducation

[yourlocalkids123]

The Proper Birthday Party Schedule For A Stress-free Kids' Party

Well, now it’s time to place those new expertise you learned to the check by crafting your kid one epic birthday cake. Not solely will this make your child’s at-home birthday party a bit extra magical, however it’ll also offer kids birthday party guide you one thing to do throughout your off-hours . It does not matter when you plan to host the birthday party on your youngster at your home or an indoor kids’ entertainment center.

Do you want to reciprocate birthday party invitations? Just because Sally had an enormous party and invited the entire class, and your child attended, doesn't mean you have to invite Sally if your youngster decides to host a smaller party. Create a celebration that they will take pleasure in, that matches your budget, and that doesn't trigger you undue stress. If you possibly can, keep away from actions where kids have to attend for his or her turn, especially if there are many other kids at the party. Think bubbles, coloring pages, freeze dance, or perhaps a craft station, complete with clay, paper, glue, and different assorted objects that kids can create with.

You can’t count on 2- and 3-year- olds to mimic Mr. Manners, especially not as quickly as excitement has reached a fever pitch. But it might assist to mannequin those gracious manners and that correct birthday party etiquette your self . If it’s allowed, consider bringing cupcakes or decorated muffins to high school for an all-access birthday celebration. Your tot has greater than sufficient toys, and you’re hoping to nurture an altruistic child in a materialistic world? Consider adding a “your presence is present enough” or “bring a present for a child in need” clause on the invite.

Multi Options – Adventure Landing Dallas is a great option! Mini-golf, arcade video games, go-karts and laser tag, multi functional place. At this stage, a extra open format may work greatest birthday party planning guide – a gaming truck, pool party, park pavilion are all ideas for this. At-home parties are great and native Parks or Neighborhood Clubhouses are a great possibility too.

Let your little ones save the day with superhero-themed decorations, a superhero cake, and costumes of their favorite heroes. Ensure that your invitations are despatched out days before the party. If it's despatched earlier, your guests would possibly neglect; and whether it is sent later, some may not be ready to attend. Every YMCA often offers most activities, lessons, camps or parties at a member value and a non-member price. The better part is that in distinction to different yogurt shops, the costs have been flat based mostly on the cup size instead of being weighed. Each guest got their order and the gals on the register stored a list of who had chosen what.

In this text, I need to give you my 25 best kids birthday party locations ideas so you presumably can check out the options where you reside. I also have a listing of adolescent birthday party locations and grownup birthday party locations depending on what you might party planner guide be looking for. Regardless of what time you select to carry the party, it’s best to pick a two to three-hour window with a particular time in mind for cake and ice cream. This permits everybody to plan their day with out missing the large moment when the birthday boy or woman blows out the candles.

These places are popping up lots these days and are a crazy quantity of fun. Although, mother and pa, if you try it's ready, it’s fairly the workout. I remember once I was a kid how excited I was to go to the mini golf with friends for a birthday party. The only consideration is nice climate as most mini golf is positioned outdoors.

This One Little Star party package is on the market in blue and pink designs, and has every little thing you need for the perfect party buffet. It’s got 8 paper plates, 16 paper napkins, 8 party cups, three centerpieces, a banner and a tablecloth. You may enquire if the centre does particular kids party guide party offers which can embrace meals and a celebration bag at the finish too. For sweet treats, why not attempt colored fruit smoothies and fun jelly and ice cream combos that are sure to go down properly.

I’ve regretted not taking group photos of the first 2 parties we did. But I’ve created thank you notes out of the group image for all the others. Tony La Russa’s Animal Rescue Foundation and the East Bay SPCA host parties for young pet lovers, complete with facility excursions and visits with furry pals. The money you spend on the event goes to a great cause, and there’s always a chance that considered one of your friends will wind up adopting an animal in want.

A party coordinator and instructor are on-hand to guide little guests by way of activities, tasks and a celebration . Parties book over the weekends, however weekdays are potentially obtainable upon request. Up to 12 kiddos are invited to play with clay at BrickHouse Ceramic Art Center, where they’ll strive creating bowls, mugs or a one-of-a-kind sculpture. Watch as the moist materials transforms into a trinket your kids will love for years to return. Ages 10 and up for handbuilding events, ages 12 and up for wheel throwing parties.

[container-storage-brisbane]

Efficient and Safe Packing

container packing & unpacking Brisbane

Typically, many shipping companies will have you pack your shipping container in either one of two ways. The first one is sending the times to you a few days beforehand in order for you to load your items earlier. This is to ensure that you will pack them carefully.

container packing & unpacking Brisbane

Alternatively, they will do the live-load where you have a few hours to pack the container while the driver is on waiting. Whatever is the method, it is important that you pack your items into the shipping container efficiently and safely.

 Packing steps

 Before anything is loaded inside the container, the first thing you do is to thoroughly inspect it. For one, you need to be sure that there are at least no holes in the container before you allow the driver to leave. (Holes are just one of the problems that can cause damages and other problems.)

 The packing should start with all the large and heavy items packed first and placed at the back. These might be large household appliances, or some big pieces of furniture.

 Continue loading these heavier items on the floor all the way to the back wall of the container’s wall, placing lighter items on top of them as you go.

 Cushioning

 If you have mattresses, pack these along the sides of the heavy items to use as additional cushioning and protection, especially of fragile items.

 Once you start adding boxes to the tiers, pack the items tightly so they don’t shift or move around during the transport of the shipment. (Bubble wraps are all a big help here.)

 These usually happen when there are surface level shifts of the carrier transport ships or the surface bumps and shifts of the road that can shake the transport trucks or trains, including the cargo inside.

 Unpacking items

 When packing your shipping container, have a box of things you will need right away at your destination at the end. The items in this box could include a few toys if you have kids, scissors for opening boxes, and any cleaning materials you might need right away.

 The easiest way to unpack a shipping container is to simply reverse the sequence of the packed items. Simply start from the top tier with the lightest items and work your way back to the heaviest and biggest items.

 Delivery

 The shipping companies are mandated to bring your container directly to your desired location, dropping it off at the destination and giving you time to unpack it at leisure.

 Many shipping companies will bring your container directly to your desired location, dropping it off and giving you time to unpack at your leisure.

 When unpacking, be careful enough to opening the main side of the box. Be careful in picking things because many items may have shifted during the transport.

 Following these tips can ensure that the items you sent (or are receiving) have very minimal scratches or none at all. If care had been taken in the packing of the items, chances are the accidental scratches, if any, would be very minimal.

container packing & unpacking Brisbane

[allthingsforkid-blog]