Exercise Wednesday: This is the best day ever
Sometimes I like to write at locations other than my inner sanctuary. Of late, I’ve enjoyed the front porch at Whole Foods in Carrollwood. Today there’s a nice breeze and it’s not too hot (I wrote this a while before it was published). And there are interesting people around.
Two tables in front of me, there’s a young mom with her two little girls eating lunch from the food bar. It’s a simple family moment that acts as one of the cinder blocks that builds a happy childhood. The kids, one of whom might be four and the other may six, are more or less eating while they look at the people going by and talking with their mom about whatever pops into their heads. Mom finished eating a decent time ago and is benevolently waiting.
Of course, one of the lunch courses is macaroni and cheese.
At one point, one of the girls looked at her mom and said, “This is the best day ever.”
All of this because they went to the local health-food supermarket and ate lunch together outside. Given the discussion, it could get even better, if they go to the pool instead of going shopping.
Or, if the girls turn tired and irritable, the mommy who engineered the best day ever could be the Meanest Mommy in the History of the World.
In short, there’s absolutely nothing remarkable about the scene, except that it’s completely remarkable in its contribution to the girls’ lives and, by extension, their childrens’ lives.
Today’s assignment is to write about the best day ever, in terms of wonderment and amazement. Your characters don’t have to be children. They could be jaded adults whose desperate hope for something to cut the cynicism comes to pass, in spite of their fears that no such hope is justified. Or it could be an adult who allows herself to see the world through a young boy’s eyes.
Either way, the exercise is to create the best day ever and make the reader believe it really is.
Time limit: 30 minutes