siblings

Siblings are the only enemy you can't live without.

The German's Chocolate Cake
I was thirteen years old it was 1943 the war had come to our doorstep. Our bags were packed sitting by the front door. Mother was cooking our last supper to be eaten in our beautiful little home. Mother nervously fussed over our supper, she had made a chocolate cake. The cake was beautiful she took time to carefully frost it making pretty scallops in the icing. I could not wait to enjoy a slice. Chocolate had even become a rare treat in Germany due to being rationed to the soldiers.
By Autumn Blackburn4 years ago in Families
The last slice
I grew up in a family of eight children and the traditional birthday cake was always a rich chocolatey affair, aptly named the devil’s food cake. I think my mother originally found the recipe on a can of carnation milk, but over the years I recall sour cream was substituted with a better result. Melting chocolate was not used in the recipe,but good quality cocoa powder. The secret appeared to be mixing the batter until the cocoa released a glossy lustre magic. Once cooked and cooled, sliced in half and embellished with cream and berries then iced. Mostly two cakes were used to create a four layered torte. So you can imagine, with that many birthdays it was a pretty regular event, usually held on the nearest Saturday night to the birthday, yet we never tired of it.
By Fran Vedovelli4 years ago in Families
What Rida Wants
When Rida came from work, she commanded Zaki, “I want a wallet in a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper, by tomorrow.”
By Lobna Kowsar5 years ago in Families
The Stairway to Heaven: Allison's Journey
It started as any other Monday. I snuck out of my room to go to the bathroom and saw her waiting patiently on the couch. She and Phyllis were getting ready to head out for the day. I looked at Alli, and she gave me that “don’t get in my way I’m on a schedule, and you aren’t a part of it” look. I got that most every weekday morning because Alli did have a schedule. Her day-program took her all around the area reading to pre-school children, visiting the elderly, making crafts with her friends and so much more. Mondays were the best days for her – unlike the rest of us who dread them. For Allison it meant freedom from the house and the ability to just be herself.
By Traci Tucker5 years ago in Families
A Meal with the Family
The family are sat in the mother’s living room. The three-seater sofa has Deana, the mother, sat on the left with her legs folded; her eyes fixated on the television, directly opposite to her gaze in the corner of the living room. On the right of the sofa is Tom, the youngest son, 24 years old with his long legs sprawled out from his slouched position. Along the left of the living room is a two-seater sofa which has the eldest son James on. At 30 years old, with renovations taking place in his new home, a wedding to plan with his fiancé and an infant son almost a year old, James rarely gets the opportunity to see either of his immediate family. The father left the household when the children were young. Deana – the mum – is moving abroad having retired from work and has been looking forward to seeing her boys in the old family home one last time before she takes up her new home with her feet up in sunny Spain.
By T A Court5 years ago in Families
Brotherly Love
Teenage brothers are closer then any form of relationship there is. Secrets are created, memories made, and games played. But what about the fights, the evil secrets the pranks.
By Thomas R Dorsett Jr5 years ago in Families
Death By Chocolate
Everyone loves chocolate. Or some form of the sweet sugary food. One would never think that eating such a delicious item could cause a memory that would last for 40 years and continue to be a high point in a families life. Such an event happened to me when I was growing up.
By Thomas R Dorsett Jr5 years ago in Families
A Royal Dream
Tiara, it started for me with a tiara. Beautiful, be-jeweled crowning glory. “There she is Miss America, there she is your ideal” sang the great, Johnny Desmond. Bert Parks stood handsome in his tuxedo with his giant pasted on smile, took her by the hand and guided her to the runway.
By pamela mayer5 years ago in Families
Freaks
Freaks. Names: You/ Xylia Your hunting trainer/ John The leader/ Jacob Everyone else isn’t important at this moment.
By Shadiah Fister5 years ago in Families
The Songs We Sing
With four children in our house, we read stories all the time—stories after lunch, when it is time to calm down and get ready for a nap. Stories before dinner, while dinner was cooking in the oven. And, of course, stories at bath time. We had a book that was waterproof, full of silly little bath time stories. Reading was a constant activity in our home until bedtime.
By J. Delaney-Howe5 years ago in Families
Beige Carpets and Foreign Crystals
Beige carpets, smoked glass tables with foreign crystals, never prevented my Saturday morning fun time. On Saturday mornings when I awoke, I brushed my teeth and rushed to the breakfast table for cereal, waffles, and orange juice.
By Tanea Hill5 years ago in Families
My Brother: The Storyteller
It is hard for me to look back on a childhood filled to the brim with stories and imagination and pinpoint just one favourite bedtime story. Many warm nights were spent cuddled up in bed, with Mum reading me and my brothers a range of fantastical stories. Or Dad regaling to me (for the hundredth time) the adventures of a young Dana and her faithful companion, Smokey the Horse, whose name he conveniently misremembered as Stinky every single night. My home was one that truly fostered the sense of wonder and imagination that comes hand in hand with the bedtime story. There is, however, one character that stands out to me when I reflect on the storytelling of my childhood, whether it be the made-up games, the terrible self-authored and directed plays our parents were forced to watch, or the intricate and recurring bedtime stories. My older brother, Matthew.
By Dana Cropley5 years ago in Families