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Kansas City MO 64131





Cindy Maddera

It's starting to become a Saturday morning habit. I get up, shower and dress and tip toe out the door around 7:30 AM leaving everyone else tucked in their beds sound asleep. I get to Heirloom and since it is Halloween, I am greeted by a lovely owl who takes my order and hands me a coffee mug, which I fill before finding my seat at the bar. I look up at the group working around the large table today. They are all dressed in costumes that look like they were designed by Wes Anderson. There's a fox and a cat and a crow. The best one is the guy making cookies, wearing a Cookie Monster costume. I open my Fortune Cookie journal and get to work.

Complaints are like bee stings but compliments are like butterflies

She felt the first sting. It came with an "Ugh! Why did you buy that color?" A welt began to swell up on her cheek. "This biscuit sure is dry." Another complaint sting started to swell up on her forehead. "I don't like that." "It's yucky." "I'll try it, but I probably won't like it." "Why didn't you bring me back anything?" "Why did you bring me back this cold sandwich?" Pretty soon she found herself covered in stinging complaint welts. Her skin hurt to the touch. Moving made her wince in pain. Then she heard "Oh! Thank you! I love this!" The words felt like the wings of butterflies, gently fluttering against her skin. "You do so much for us." "This dinner is really good." "I love you." And she found herself covered in soft butterflies. 

It's funny that this was the day's fortune, maybe even ironic. I ended up buying two Halloween cookies from Heirloom to take back home for Michael and the Cabbage. The Cabbage licked the face off of her's and then nibbled the edge before setting it back down on the counter, displeased. Then when I was putting her Batgirl costume on her, there were complaints that the costume was not pink. My reply in my head was "A pink Batgirl is dumb because everyone knows she wears all black with yellow trim. Duh!" I did not say that though. Instead I just shrugged and strapped the mask to her head. Her complaints no longer sting me, mostly because I've stopped trying to please. She wanted to be Batgirl, so I bought a Batgirl costume. She didn't say she wanted to be a pink Batgirl. Her disappointment is of her own making. Not to say that it's all complaining all the time. She was happy with the Spaghetti Joe's I made her for lunch and the dinner I put together for her Friday night. 

This is the first fortune of my Fortune Cookie journal that had me writing less fiction and more truth. I'm sure there are others that will do this. It's not like I made any rules for this journal. All I have to do is write something inspired by the fortune. Easy peasy. Actually, the only not so easy part of writing in this journal, has been making time to write in it. It seems that in order to make time to write, I have to tip toe out of the house at 7:30 AM on a Saturday.