Ink Slinger Merit Badge, Part II

The adorable, always humorous MBA Jane is my way of honoring our Sisterhood Merit Badge program, now with 5,091 dues-paying members who have earned an amazing number of merit badges so far—6,887 total! Take it away, MBA Jane!!! MJ

Well, I was about to find out just how good my short story was. The next part of the Stitching and Crafting/Ink Slinger Merit Badge (Sheesh! Was selling my soul next? This novel writing really wrings the drama and emotion out of a girl!) was to give it to a friend to correct for grammar, spelling, and punctuation. I shoved it into Midge’s waiting hands, knowing she corrected her triplets’ use of the English language approximately 12387.23487 times per day. Before breakfast.

Midge left with my baby in her eager paws, and I swear I heard a maniacal laugh out of my BFF as she did. Maybe it was the after-effects of too much iced tea and coffee, though.

Midge would be gentle … wouldn’t she?

I must have voiced that worry out loud because Brittany, the youngest triplet, started giggling hysterically.

“Um, sure, Auntie Jane … sure, she will.” She patted my head in a reassuring fashion, but she was still chortling.

I could barely sleep that night. Midge assured me she couldn’t get to my story until the kids were in bed that night, so I had to wait. I tossed and turned fretfully. Would she see the parallels between good and evil? Would she appreciate the gentle humor? The life lessons? The sweet coming of age story line? The particularly nice cursive?

I barely slept at all. I was so worried for my baby. My blue, crime solving, spunky convertible. Was the world ready for her? I mean, yes, Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang did alright. And The Love Bug made history. Would Annabella (for that was my dynamic heroine’s name) thrive and find her audience?

Or would she be sold for scraps and parts?

Ack! My heart could barely take this sort of torture. I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a writer after all. I may be too sensitive, too over-involved. I’ve heard of Helicopter Parenting. Was it possible to be a Helicopter Writer?

Once again, I was about to find out. Midge came over bright and early the next morning. Was it because she was so impressed with her bestie’s skills that she couldn’t sleep either? Or was it because I hadn’t stopped texting her all night?

R u done yet?

What is taking so long?

R u dead?

Is Annabella ok??????

I always accompany my text messages with smatterings of happy emotions so as to annoy the recipient less and so as not to be a bother. Must have worked, because Midge only appeared mildly irritated. Like a mother bear. Which, incidentally, I also resembled and could sympathize with, as I pulled my story from her hands.

Breathlessly, I peered down at it. It was full of red pen marks. Golly, Midge took this proofreading thing seriously. I swallowed down my initial disappointment and horror and took my criticism bravely. I also started to sympathize less with a bear and more with Brittany. Midge really knew her stuff.

Red marks aside, Midge assured me she loved my story. Although not as much as the triplets. Success!

I basked in the glow of my warm, fuzzy feelings all day. As far as The Great American Novel goes? Well, maybe someday.

After all, Annabella’s adventures have only just begun …