Thursday, December 2, 2010

Honda Motor Sand Rail

From the diary of a bad mother

A read-aloud stories for winter evenings


A Whirring, a screaming, a fluttering. Cora's kiddies were escapes from the nest and had suddenly found in the uncut grass beneath the nest again. Cora took it calmly. There was food in abundance there, and they fed Jan, Erik and Cleopatra on the lawn just next to the bushes, as if nothing had happened.

The stepmother knew the game of the fledging of their kids well enough, father Kolya, grandfather Moschtraj and hundreds of Rabe generations before them, the whole portrait gallery of raven reported unanimously that it would be a wisdom of the raven, to treat the kiddies their nest flight.

Cora would not have been a bad mother if she had not, like her whole body and deposits held as representative of the extraordinarily clever raven guild. For centuries, namely, the raven country was plagued by burglars who had specialized in plundering the nests of the crow family, kill their young, before they even had a chance to experience the thrilling beauty of life.

your cunning because it was not so bad so it follows that their nest would be empty now. No more voracious predator would do to her there, kiddies, has hurt. Feeding, Instruction, the entire school Rabe would take place just now in a place where no enemy would suspect her daughter Cleopatra and the Erik and January Their three beautiful kids would learn to assert themselves on the ground, to be forgiven in the air when danger threatened, along with Cora and future grandchildren a beautiful, capturing a great living space and preserve it.

It was late and in the evening. The feeding of small Durn had tasted all the power Cora. But now the kids finally came to rest, and the bad mother could remember a little on yourself, rest, ankrächzen the approaching full moon, softly in the dawn Rose into darkness. Your family would be provided, none of the kids if something happened.

Slowly they too could now think of sleeping, because Körbel, Raven's father, the way she always referred to his real name Mr. Korbian "when she was angry with him, so Körbel had meanwhile arrived, too. He would be awake while they slept. And although she had fallen asleep that night, deep and strong, there were still the little back room in her clever brain turns, which watched over every movement of her charges, ready to defend it at any time, wide awake, if it were necessary - even if it cost her life.

Yes, bad mothers love their children. They would give anything for it, whether their own lives to make it go well with the little ones. Rabe Rabe mothers and fathers are the most caring of all parents. So they are very proud to be called bad parents.

© PS 090812 1841

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