The Dress
Title: The Dress
Author: zerimarclassics
Characters: Crystal (this journal), Margery militarymomlove , Margery's Mother
Notes: Rated PG because no one swears or even makes a subtly dirty joke. I'm more than certain all of us have had that one Easter outfit (or more) that made us wish we could A) roll around in mud or B) jump into a wood chipper. Crystal is two and stuck in this situation.
Easter looked so lovely around Margery’s home. Little butterflies, bees, and the occasional wasp fluttered around the garden and around soda cans. Bright flowers decorated the porch and garden. A sprinkle sprayed the green grass, feeding it to make sure it kept its lush color and thickness.
Crystal was two years-old and capable of running much faster than her mother as well as causing enough chaos to make even the brattiest of children envious of her natural curiosity. Despite Crystal’s vicious response to her grandmother’s request to placing her in quite possibly the most hideous Easter dress ever to be sewn by human hand’s - she was plopped on the floor in small white shoes with pink bows, and a bright pink and green dress with two large pink flowers on her tiny infant shoulders. Pink and green flowers decorated the brim of the dress, and a fat pink tie went around Crystal’s tiny waist and finished with a large bow tied behind her back. The thick fabric got caught in Crystal’s claws, and the pins in her wild hair itched and pulled at tiny hairs.
The scowl on her face said it all. She was furious.
“There. Now you look more like a little girl.” Commented the reluctant grandmother as she fussed with Crystal’s gown. Fluffing it up more and making Crystal give an involuntary growl. She swatted her small clawed hand, making her wince.
“You behave. C’mon. Let’s show your mother.”
She took hold of Crystal by her waist, roughly, making her tense and carted her off down the stairs where Margery conversed with her cousins. Margery’s eyes widened at the sight of her precious little girl dressed in such a heinous outfit.
“Mother, what have you done?” she asked, horrified.
“I only put her in a dress that would make her blend a little more.”
“That’s not gonna make her blend. That’ll make her plot different ways to kill you, and me, but not make her blend.”
Crystal stood with her arms held out as if the dress burned at the touch. Her cat-like eyes were narrowed to slits in a harsh glare, currently directed to her mother.
“She looks darling. Better than what you brought her in.” retorted Mary, waving a manicured hand at the small child, who appeared to be avoiding all possible movement with the itchy fabric on her person.
“You should dress her more like a person, Margery. Then she won’t get so many nasty looks.” Mary turned on her heels and trotted out to converse with some other guests. Margery looked to her cousin and placed down her drink with a heavy sigh.
Dare she near her angry daughter, now? Or wait for her to become more fed up - if that was possible - and shred the dress to ribbons? A smirk floated onto Margery’s face and she turned to grin at her daughter.
“C’mere, my little pissy cupcake. I’ve got an idea.” She smiled, and plucked up her daughter. Crystal wasn’t budging on her own. The shoes pinched her toes, and movement in this foul dress might mean submission. Which she wasn’t about to do.
Margery took the stiff and grumbling Crystal, picking at the clips in her hair with soft whimpers, outside and stepped onto the grass. She took Crystal’s tiny feet and released them from the confines of the shoes and stood up, gently swatting Crystal’s behind to make her go.
“Go on and play, baby.”
Crystal stumbled slightly, but soon regained her balance in the grass and trotted off into the garden. She walked for a few steps before falling once on her rear, rolling onto her knees and happily crawling to a puddle left by a sprinkler. In no time, the once hideous dress was drenched in mud, muck, one dead bee which could not be located until Crystal plucked it out herself and handed it to her grandfather running off again. Bare foot, she crawled under a rose bush and ripped off one flower on her shoulder, only getting caught once by her hair with the pig tails her grandmother set in. Now the bright red roses held a dangling pink one in the middle of its thorns. Neon pink threads dandled from her shoulders, mud stuck to her cheeks, dirt had caked over her claws and hands. Margery had a feeling Crystal might have eaten something she probably shouldn’t have, but the squeal her mother gave at the site of Crystal’s new creation in the center of the living room brought a smile to her face and Crystal’s bright giggle made her forget.
With muddy hands she reached up to her mother’s pale cheeks and happily rubbed the gritty dirt from her hands onto her mother’s face, clothes, and blond hair.
“Are you happy now, baby?” she asked, cooing at her. Crystal squealed with delight, clapping her hands and kicking her mud covered feet.
“I’ll take that for a yes. Let’s get you a bath and put you in some sturdy clothes.”
“Bah!” Crystal cried triumphantly as her mother carried her daintily up the stairs.
Author: zerimarclassics
Characters: Crystal (this journal), Margery militarymomlove , Margery's Mother
Notes: Rated PG because no one swears or even makes a subtly dirty joke. I'm more than certain all of us have had that one Easter outfit (or more) that made us wish we could A) roll around in mud or B) jump into a wood chipper. Crystal is two and stuck in this situation.
Easter looked so lovely around Margery’s home. Little butterflies, bees, and the occasional wasp fluttered around the garden and around soda cans. Bright flowers decorated the porch and garden. A sprinkle sprayed the green grass, feeding it to make sure it kept its lush color and thickness.
Crystal was two years-old and capable of running much faster than her mother as well as causing enough chaos to make even the brattiest of children envious of her natural curiosity. Despite Crystal’s vicious response to her grandmother’s request to placing her in quite possibly the most hideous Easter dress ever to be sewn by human hand’s - she was plopped on the floor in small white shoes with pink bows, and a bright pink and green dress with two large pink flowers on her tiny infant shoulders. Pink and green flowers decorated the brim of the dress, and a fat pink tie went around Crystal’s tiny waist and finished with a large bow tied behind her back. The thick fabric got caught in Crystal’s claws, and the pins in her wild hair itched and pulled at tiny hairs.
The scowl on her face said it all. She was furious.
“There. Now you look more like a little girl.” Commented the reluctant grandmother as she fussed with Crystal’s gown. Fluffing it up more and making Crystal give an involuntary growl. She swatted her small clawed hand, making her wince.
“You behave. C’mon. Let’s show your mother.”
She took hold of Crystal by her waist, roughly, making her tense and carted her off down the stairs where Margery conversed with her cousins. Margery’s eyes widened at the sight of her precious little girl dressed in such a heinous outfit.
“Mother, what have you done?” she asked, horrified.
“I only put her in a dress that would make her blend a little more.”
“That’s not gonna make her blend. That’ll make her plot different ways to kill you, and me, but not make her blend.”
Crystal stood with her arms held out as if the dress burned at the touch. Her cat-like eyes were narrowed to slits in a harsh glare, currently directed to her mother.
“She looks darling. Better than what you brought her in.” retorted Mary, waving a manicured hand at the small child, who appeared to be avoiding all possible movement with the itchy fabric on her person.
“You should dress her more like a person, Margery. Then she won’t get so many nasty looks.” Mary turned on her heels and trotted out to converse with some other guests. Margery looked to her cousin and placed down her drink with a heavy sigh.
Dare she near her angry daughter, now? Or wait for her to become more fed up - if that was possible - and shred the dress to ribbons? A smirk floated onto Margery’s face and she turned to grin at her daughter.
“C’mere, my little pissy cupcake. I’ve got an idea.” She smiled, and plucked up her daughter. Crystal wasn’t budging on her own. The shoes pinched her toes, and movement in this foul dress might mean submission. Which she wasn’t about to do.
Margery took the stiff and grumbling Crystal, picking at the clips in her hair with soft whimpers, outside and stepped onto the grass. She took Crystal’s tiny feet and released them from the confines of the shoes and stood up, gently swatting Crystal’s behind to make her go.
“Go on and play, baby.”
Crystal stumbled slightly, but soon regained her balance in the grass and trotted off into the garden. She walked for a few steps before falling once on her rear, rolling onto her knees and happily crawling to a puddle left by a sprinkler. In no time, the once hideous dress was drenched in mud, muck, one dead bee which could not be located until Crystal plucked it out herself and handed it to her grandfather running off again. Bare foot, she crawled under a rose bush and ripped off one flower on her shoulder, only getting caught once by her hair with the pig tails her grandmother set in. Now the bright red roses held a dangling pink one in the middle of its thorns. Neon pink threads dandled from her shoulders, mud stuck to her cheeks, dirt had caked over her claws and hands. Margery had a feeling Crystal might have eaten something she probably shouldn’t have, but the squeal her mother gave at the site of Crystal’s new creation in the center of the living room brought a smile to her face and Crystal’s bright giggle made her forget.
With muddy hands she reached up to her mother’s pale cheeks and happily rubbed the gritty dirt from her hands onto her mother’s face, clothes, and blond hair.
“Are you happy now, baby?” she asked, cooing at her. Crystal squealed with delight, clapping her hands and kicking her mud covered feet.
“I’ll take that for a yes. Let’s get you a bath and put you in some sturdy clothes.”
“Bah!” Crystal cried triumphantly as her mother carried her daintily up the stairs.