Today's freewriting topic: Family Stories

Hmm, I should have a lot of them.

• Mom's brother accidentally stabbed her with a pitchfork


• the day of Aunt Jeannie's funeral in LaFayette, Georgia, we had a freakish ice storm that took out power but created incredible beauty


• my dad and his cousin Kelly got into tons of trouble with Dad's horse (what was that horse's name?)


• my nephew called his mom a bad name he heard on television

Okay, here's the slightly inappropriate story I need to relate.

My niece, the drama queen, began life that way. By the time she was a toddler, she reveled in attention. While visiting my parents one day, my niece was also over. She fell in the carpeted living room and decided she hurt her elbows. She didn't. There wasn't even a red mark, but by this point, she associated boo-boos with Band-Aids and wanted to put them on her elbow. We didn't. Conversations swirled around, and the faux boo-boos were forgotten by us. Apparently, she didn't forget.

She wandered off, and when she had returned, she had "Band-Aids" attached to both elbows. She failed, however, to find actual Band-Aids; instead, she used, um, feminine hygiene products. Of course, we grabbed cameras, and she gloried in the attention, posing this way and that. It was all fun and games until she got older and we started sharing those pictures with her friends. Then the drama queen really came out.

Other family stories:

• my nephew leaving his car on with the keys locked in it (more than once)


• the trip to Jernigans


• my brother-in-law's jet ski adventure


• my jet ski adventure

Okay, here's another one:

Wes and I went to Lake Eufala to spend the weekend with his family. His brother Billy had a boat and two jet skis, so we had a really fun day, jumping wakes and playing on the water. Later that afternoon, we needed to pull the water toys out of the water, so Billy drove the boat, Wes drove one jet ski, and I drove the other. We followed Billy to the state park where Billy's wife and another friend would meet us with trucks and trailers.

The ride toward the state park was even more fun as Billy drove pretty fast, giving Wes and me a big wake to jump. So we did, repeatedly. Soon the boat slowed, so we pulled up beside it.

"I think I missed the canal leading to the pull-out," Billy said. "Let's turn around."

We did. Wes and I had never been to Lake Eufala before, so we just agreed with whatever Billy said, the older brother, the man in charge, the captain, and followed him.

The playfulness ceased a bit as Wes and I also began looking for a canal that might lead to the state park pull-out. We saw nothing. The sky darkened. We could still see, but we needed to stay closer to the boat, and we quit jumping the wake.

Suddenly, my jet ski sputtered, then quit. I was bringing up the end of the procession, so they didn't notice. I watched them pull away from me, feeling very rejected and alone. They either ignored me or couldn't hear me. I hoped it was the latter.

Eventually, Wes noticed I wasn't near him any more, and he came back and found me. He tried to get my jet ski going too, but had no luck. Finally, he realized it was out of gas. Wes told me to wait with the jet ski while he notified Billy. Darkness descended more.

I grew up on the river, so I'm not a nervous person. When I'm skiing or on a water toy, I think it's cool to see alligators. I know they won't mess with me. Sitting alone in the dark on a jet ski, I rethought my attitude toward gaters. It really wouldn't be cool to see one right then.

I heard engines and saw the boat chugging my way, Wes racing ahead of it on his jet ski, my hero.

"Throw this rope around the steering column," Billy yelled, "and I'll tow you."

"Um, okay," I agreed, catching the rope on the fourth attempt. After I wrapped the rope, Billy goosed the engine, and I and the jet ski swallowed a ton of water before I fell off.

This can’t be good, I thought as I treaded water and watched the boat leave me again, this time without a jet ski to keep me away from the alligators. Well, Lord, it’s been a good life. “Billy!” I screamed.

Wes returned, jumped off his jet ski, and attached the tow rope to the tow doohickey. Then he ferried me to the boat. Soaked, I scrambled aboard with Billy’s help and tried to hide from the September wind as we took off again, still searching for the state park canal.

Before we could find it, the boat ran out of gas. Really? I thought. Hasn’t enough happened already? By now we had been gone about two hours for a twenty-minute ride to pull-out place.

And still we had no clue where we were.

We hooked up the boat, which was still pulling my jet ski, to Wes’s jet ski, and he towed the boat that towed the jet ski the used to hold the happy girl. We finally found a pull-out place, not the one we were looking for, crashed a camp site, borrowed the campers’ cell phone, and called Billy’s wife, who was not happy at all, to report our location. As soon as we made it back to the cabin, Wes and I returned home that night. We had had enough of Lake Eufala.