This week, our Sunday Scribblings prompt is Revolt. If you decide to write a post based on this week’s prompt, be sure to go back here and share your link so everyone can see how you interpreted things! Here’s what I did with it…
Frank stood in the middle of the kitchen. He was braced for disaster. His arms were crossed, his head was down. He was trying to think, but couldn’t come up with a solution to the problem at hand. Through it all, he was trying to avoid eye contact with his wife.
Lana leaned against the island, staring at Frank. She wasn’t one to tap her toe when she was feeling particularly impatient or frustrated. If she had been, that toe would have been frantically hitting the floor.
“You know those kids are gonna revolt if we can’t deliver,” she said, trying to break her husband out of his perceived stupor.
“I know!” said Frank. It came out louder and angrier than he intended. “I know,” he said more quietly. Finally looking at Lana, Frank mouthed the word sorry. He wasn’t angry. He was panicking. And he didn’t mean to take it out on her.
She was his ally. They were on the same side in this. They needed to work together or Lana’s words were going to become prophetic.
“I don’t know what to do,” he began. “You heard the phone call. She’s not coming. They don’t have a replacement at the last minute.”
“There are eight 10-year-old girls in there dressed as their favorite Disney princesses. They are all expecting Elsa to show up to have cake and ice cream with them. How do you imagine they’re going to react when we break the news that the college kid who was supposed to show up dressed as Elsa isn’t coming?”
Frank sighed heavily. “I imagine they’ll do what you said they’d do. They’re gonna revolt. I’m picturing thrown furniture, broken windows, lots of screaming, Braveheart style war paint.”
At this imagery, Lana laughed before she could stop herself. “That’s not funny.”
“The only thing we can do now is tell the truth and hope for the best. Unless you think you can convincingly transform into a Disney princess in the next 15 minutes?”
Lana rolled her eyes. “First of all, Elsa’s a queen. Second of all, I think my odds of convincingly bleaching my brown hair white and finding a light blue ball gown are about as good as yours.”
“Hey, Emma! Come here for a minute!” Frank called out to his daughter. It was her birthday and all she had asked for was a Frozen party. Part of the deal was that Frank and Lana had tracked down a company that supplied actresses who would portray Disney princesses at kids’ parties. They booked Elsa two months ago. Today, they got the call that the young actress that was supposed to come to the party had to deal with a family emergency back home in Vermont.
Emma ran into the kitchen, excited about the possibility of some new surprise, but also a little annoyed that she had been pulled away from her friends while they all watched Frozen II. Seeing the look on her parents’ faces made her worry.
Lana knelt down so she was at Emma’s level. “Sweetie, we heard some bad news just now.”
“What happened?” asked Emma.
“You know how we planned for Elsa to come to your party?”
Emma’s smile brightened and she nodded vigorously.
“Well…” Lana said, looking up at Frank, who was no help with raised eyebrows and a shrug. “Elsa’s family is sick and she had to go home to take care of them.”
Emma’s smile vanished and she was quickly on the verge of tears. “Elsa’s not coming?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Lana reached up to tuck Emma’s hair behind her ear. “But we still have the rest of the movie and we’re gonna have cake and ice cream and you’ll still open all your presents!”
Frank took a step forward to add, “Yeah! We’re still gonna have lots of fun! We don’t need some princess for that!”
“ELSA’S A QUEEN!” Emma screamed at her father. Then the dam burst. The sobs came. The tears flowed.
Lana pulled Emma to her in a tight embrace. It was all she knew to try in the moment.
Just then, one of the other parents who agreed to help with the party rushed into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
“Elsa’s not coming,” said Frank, not seeing that parent’s little girl (dressed up like Tiana) trailing behind her.
Little Tiana then shouted, “Elsa’s not coming?!”
This alerted the rest of the young guests who all, inexplicably, began screaming.
Still hugging her daughter, Lana looked up at Frank and said, “Let the revolution begin.”
“I’ll go get the war paint.”
Thanks to everyone who participated this week and shared your links! Please visit their blogs, give them a follow, and take a look at how they interpreted the prompt.
Be sure to come back on Wednesday for the next Sunday Scribblings prompt! Encourage other bloggers to challenge themselves with the prompt!