Battle on Woodstock

I remember it well, dad came home with muffins. Not just any muffins, these were the Otis Spunkmeyer muffins, one of my many guilty pleasures for a snack.

Blueberry yumyum :)

Anyway, there were 4-5 at, three of which were blueberry which is also my favorite. In a family of six, the odds of me getting the blueberry one seemed slim. Luckily, I was the third on the scene to choose a muffin. So If you didn’t figure out the count by now, when I arrived I was able to snag the last blueberry muffin. The other two muffin options were some chocolate flavor and a banana nut flavor. I started to open the muffin slowly while walking away.

I turn around and my twin sister enters the room, glanced at her options and looked disappointed. She then looked over at me to see that I had gotten the last blueberry. I could see it on her face, the rage- she threw a fit. I looked at her thinking of my retreat before remembering that I didn’t even bite my muffin yet. I proceeded to nibble off the top – my favorite part. I’m sure on some level I had a mini moment throughout my entire being. Until suddenly, my sister screamed with a hundred “That’s mine!” She ran at me and I was gone.

Flew straight out the front door and circled the planted island in the front the yard. Once my twin sister was able to catch up to me we were on the ground wrestling. Mind you the muffin is still in my hand. Picture this two middle-school aged girls in the front yard making a fuss and wrestling over a blueberry muffin. I had it extended up into the sky in my left arm as I fought for my muffin as well as freedom. She soon got the upper hand on me and reached up to the muffin and crumbled what she could out of my hand. Now, this all happened in a matter of maybe three minutes.

My mother was quick and not too far from behind us. She picked my sister up so fast I thought she had superpowers. She held her up to separate us. I still had remnants of muffin in my hand so I proceeded to sneak and eat them while we got lectured.

My little sister witnessed from the glass front door. She knocked to get my mother’s attention and pointed across the street. The three of us turned around to see our lovely next door neighbor peeking through the newspaper at all the fuss. My mom brushed all of our clothes and we gracefully retreated inside. I guess I never really saw her when I first ran out the house. Hah, we were all so embarrassed.

Side note: I didn’t want to ruin the story by getting into why she really threw the “fit” – tantrum I would call it, like a BIG baby. Although at that time, she was a pickier eater than I was. Shouldn’t the early bird get the worm though? ugh!

Challenge: Imagine the whole thing remixed to a parody. So if anyone can recall the song”A girl worth fighting for?” in Mulan and replace it with “What are we fighting for?” by my twin and I. On the front lawn. extras include neighbor reading the newspaper, mom and my little sister.

Well, I will be signing off, until next time!


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