Not so fast. I ended up using my "B" essay (something or other about my sons practicing Basketball and it teaching me important life lessons) early.
Now here it was 6 AM on the B day, and I had nothing for the letter "B."
In a fit of stupidity, I had officially signed up for the A to Z Challenge twice, once through my mothersofbrothersblog and once through my splinter site, Word Cut, where I normally did writing contests and challenges. The first one would be about life and mommy stuff, and I had decided in advance that the Word Cut one would be 100% related to travel (for the A to Z month).
Sure, write two essays every day for a month, why not? (See above: fit of stupidity.) I rationalized to myself that I typically post once a day anyway, so that was not much of a challenge. Twice a day, now that would stretch my brain muscles!
I stared at my blank computer screen, attempting to summon the Muse. Muse, where are you? I need you now!
Then I started blurting out "B" words: butter, bacon, beans, bakery, bagel, bread. Apparently, I was hungry at 6 AM.
I finally settled on Braces and composed what I thought was a perfectly good essay.
Until I happened to click on over the Stephanie's blog, Clay Baboons. She has a funny essay about her fear of alien abduction (obviously this is her post for letter "A"). In my head I was laughing at Stephanie. Don't get me wrong, her writing and clay figures, as usual, were stellar. I was making fun of the fact that anybody in their right mind could possibly be afraid of aliens. I mean, really. There are no such things as aliens!
Now, Big Foot. That is another topic all together. We should all fear Big Foot.
And that's when I realized: I shouldn't have written about Braces! Who cares about straight teeth when Big Foot is on the prowl!
I wrote Stephanie a brief precautionary note in her comment section, reassuring her that her fear of aliens was unfounded, but that she should DEFINITELY check under the bed at night for Big Foot. I went on to let her know that he lived under my bed in Pennsylvania when I was eight, although I never saw him and had no sort of proof.
So, all this is to say: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I forgot to write about Big Foot.