Speed work

running mom

I was inside minding my own business, peeling potatoes and such, when I heard the most horrible scream, followed by more screams:

'Alarm, Alarm! Otsmom, alarm!' 

(The neigbourhood kids call me Otsmom, Pietsmom depending on which one of my children they're playing with.)

What's happening?!

I nearly jumped out of my skin and ran with the speed of light outside, towards the screams. Speedy Gonzales couldn't have gone any faster! Ots little friend, Oliver, met me outside, repeating with a voice ringing with sensation: 'Alarm, alarm Otsmom! Ots whóle head is bleeding.'

Indeed, there Ot came, crying loudly, pointing to his forehead. I took a deep breath and lifted his bangs, preparing myself for a grisly sight worthy of a Stephen King novel. But instead of a big wound, just a little graze met me.

'Thank God! That's not so bad!' I declared in my best doctor's voice. 'You gave me a real fright Oliver!'

'You can run really fast Otsmom!'

'You can run really fast, can't you, Otsmom!' Ot's little friend said in impressed tones.
'Why, thank you, Oliver!' I replied.

And then I went inside, my legs still a little wobbly, and checked off on my To-Do-List:

'Doing Speedwork.'


  1. Yes...nothing can get us to run faster than our children...I do like the though of it counting as speedwork though!

  2. That's a great story!!! Thanks for sharing at the Weekend Blog Hop at My Flagstaff Home! --Jennifer

  3. Oh so true - nothing can get us running as fast as our children! Thanks for sharing with us at The Blogger's Pit Stop!

  4. LOL Love this post. Our kids can make us run so fast! Thanks for linking this post to the #GatheringofFriendsLinkParty 3

  5. Congratulations! Your post will be featured this week at the Weekend Blog Hop at My Flagstaff Home. --Jennifer