Erma Bombeck Writing Competition - Winners
2007
Erma Bombeck Writing Competition
Honorable Mention
Humor - Dayton
Charlene Kochensparger
Centerville, Ohio
"Not Quite Martha"
| Say what you want about Martha Stewart (she has crazy eyes, she's an ex-con, she obiously has no comb), but the woman could craft a working miniature player piano from 400 toothpicks and a marker. I, however, want to be crafty, but can't quite cut it...literally, I'm bad with scissors. It began in second grade, with my Valentine's Day Box Massacre. I imagined a Valentine box that would not only collect my cards, but would say something to my fellow seven-year-old classmates about who Charlene was. It was to be glittery, shiny, amazing and there, crowning it all, would be Barbie, my favorite toy. I dressed Barbie in her best silver dress, complete with pink heels and purse, hauled out the tin foil, a box, and scissors and went to work. Hours later, I had one cardboard box with a card slot hacked into the top, covered in wrinkly, torn foil and Barbie sticking out of a jagged hole in the lid. She was tilting crazily, her blond hair in disarray, missing a shoe and looking for all the world like she tied one on last night at the bar down the street. It looked nothing like the image in my head, and Valentine's Day was the next day--no time for a do-over. After much sighing and complaining, I hauled the thing to school and set it on the window ledge with beautiful boxes clearly constructed with parental (and maybe professional) help and proceeded not to care. It served its purpose, but I never forgot the whole episode. It was followed, over the years, by a clumsily constructed birdhouse the birds wouldn't touch, a wooden memo holder my mom cut her finger on while writing down a phone message, and an old lady puppet that started as a princess and involved sewing, a dangerous activity for me. Funny thing is, I'm still the same hopeful incompetent. I have two kids now and each year I find reasons to create--Valentine's Day, Halloween, and even Spring can necessitate the use of the hot glue gun. It's a great tool which eliminates the sewing machine, but hot glue, as it turns out, is hot. My daughter says nothing when I pull it out and set up a newspaper-covered spot to work, but apparently, she's not an idiot. For my last project, she provided a little bowl of cool water by my side. "What's this?" I asked. "For when you burn yourself." I'd like to say that didn't sting a bit, but it did and, luckily, I had water to soothe the sting. At least the projects go quicker now. If only I could get those scissors to cooperate--imagine what I could create. |