News & Features » May 2020 » “Dew Wheat” by Denise Hume

“Dew Wheat” by Denise Hume

Are you a parent going through the Terrible Twos? Did you live through them and survive? Terrible Twosdays is a place to commiserate over the unending shenanigans of your Darling Children (as the online parenting communities say). Nonfiction stories will be considered, so long as names have been changed to protect the guilty. Inspired by our best-selling gift book for parents, Go the Fuck to Sleep, Terrible Twosdays joins the roster of our other online short fiction series. Unlike Mondays Are Murder and Thursdaze, we’re looking for stories with a light and mischievous feel, all about the day-to-day challenges of parenting. As with our other flash fiction series, stories must not exceed 750 words.

This week, the author’s young sons strive for independence.

Dew Wheat
by Denise Hume
Two young sons

“I dew wheat.” I never knew the power of words until my two year old asked to “do it.” Those two little words sent dread flying through my body. Teaching independence was an important factor in raising children but my son took it to a whole another level. He wanted to do EVERYTHING.

“Time to get dressed, let me put your pants.”

“I dew wheat,” he whines as I painstakingly watch as two legs go in one side of the pants, leaving him looking like one of Ariel’s long lost cousin from under the sea. Then magically both legs end up in the other side of pants, as he wobbles around trying to wrap his brain around why the pants aren’t cooperating with him. Ten minutes later, the pants are on, each leg finally in their prospective places but now on backwards. I just roll with it. If I even tried to take it off to fix it, he would surely chop my head off. He worked so hard to get it on and was so proud of his accomplishment that he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Hi fie,” he says while holding up his little palm.

“Good job,” I utter back nervously not sure if I was doing more damage than good by not correcting him. Screw it, if he’s happy, I’m happy. High five I did.

My oldest also loved being independent and can accomplish most feats by himself.  The only problem with him was that he was at that age where he felt that he needed to do everything aggressively.

“Oooh, mommy can I do it,” as he takes the milk to pour into his cereal before I can say ok. Picking up the carton he turns it completely upside down while watching the milk pour everywhere but the bowl.

“Oooh, mommy can I do it,” he says, taking a cake mixer and gently twirling it around the bowl.

“Wow, good job mixing,” I say as I turn to grab a forgotten ingredient. Before I could take three steps away I’m pegged in the back of my head with a glob of batter. I turn to see my son dipping and pulling out the hand mixer, enjoying watching the batter as it ricocheted off the blades.

“Oooh mommy can I do it,” my oldest asked while in his car seat. His favorite thing to do was to buckle himself in and for the most part he had it down pack. The only time it was a challenge for him was during the winter months, when he was bundled up, making it difficult for him to pull over all his layers. Five minutes later and finally accepting my assistance he was buckled in and ready to go. Walking over to the other side to buckle in the youngest is when I heard the dreaded words.

“I dew wheat.”

Helllll noooo, I thought to myself while swiftly buckling him in. That’s one screaming tantrum that I was willing to put up with. I would’ve been standing in the cold for ten years and a day had I let him attempt to “dew wheat.”

Needless to say nothing makes my heart pound more and break out into a shivering bout filled with cold sweats other than hearing those two little innocent words, “dew wheat.”

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DENISE HUME is a single, jobless, self-proclaimed stay-at-home mom of two boys and resides in Connecticut. In her free time, which is 24 hours a day, she enjoys writing about one of life’s most overlooked moments; the painful reality that actually comes with raising kids. Her motto is “kids are a blessing and a curse, just keep drinking until the latter appears better.”

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Do you have a story you’d like us to consider for online publication in the Terrible Twosdays flash fiction series? Here are the submission terms and guidelines:

—We are not offering payment, and are asking for first digital rights. The rights to the story revert to the author immediately upon publication.
—Your story should focus on the challenges of parenting. Ideally, stories should be about children aged 0 to 5, but any age (up to early teens) is acceptable. Stories may be fiction or nonfiction.
—Include the child’s age at the time of the story next to your byline.
—Your story should not exceed 750 words.
—E-mail your submission to info@akashicbooks.com. Please paste the story into the body of the email, and also attach it as a PDF file.

Posted: May 8, 2020

Category: Original Fiction, Terrible Twosdays | Tags: children, fiction, flash fiction, Go the Fuck to Sleep, GTFTS, independence, motherhood, mothers, parenting, short fiction, Terrible Twosdays, two year old