Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with the WWE, If I did I
would have sold out a while ago and paid off some tuition! Maggie Danials
and Grayson are mine however. MINE!! (insert evil laughter here)
AN: well you all made it through the prologue so I must have done something right.
If sitting at your desk and throwing pencils in the ceiling were an Olympic event, baby you would be looking at the newest gold medal winner. At the moment there are three freshly sharpened, number two pencils up there, lying in wait for the next sap to walk through my door when gravity decides to do its thing and THWAP him right in the head. I look forward to that, although I hope I can keep a straight face long enough to apologize and usher him right back out my door. If you cant have fun at your job why do it? There was a knock at my door, and one of the leaders on the snob clique, a women from accounting peered in, wrinkled her perfect little nose and asked if had signed some new form that was being required of all upper level management. She actually looked rather disappointed that I wasn't on my back with my legs in the air on the desk and one of the guys in sales enjoying himself. I smiled sweetly, "Of course I did Shelia I put it in your box this morning."
"Oh right, well just double checking." And she quickly shut the door behind her as I stuck my tongue out at her.
"Maybe you should double check your attitude." I said to no one in particular. The other women at the agency avoid me like the plague. I think they are intimidated by something about me. What that is I have no idea in hell, maybe it's my height. At 5'10" in my stocking feet I'm taller then most and my preference to wear high heels only adds to it. That and I believe having a son has something to do with it. None of them have actually come out and told me this, but I'm a smart chick. They all think he is illegitimate and me a slut, I don't tell them anything different. Why should I? They don't need to know. The men at the agency are a different story; they congregate around me like wolves on an injured deer for the same exact reason the women do avoid me. I have an "illegitimate:" kid so I must be easy and a slut. I picked up on their mating habits not quite soon enough and got my heart broken but that's another story and I won't bore you with it.
Just before 5, I packed up my stuff and left dodging the nails Shelia and her gang were piercing into my back, and virtually ran for my car. Thanking God that I could now avoid them and enjoy rush hour traffic.
Walking into my front door is always a surprise. I never quite know what Grayson had concocted that day. And today it looked like he had been in rare form. The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off, paper and glue were stuck on the floor, a half done art project on the table and an assortment of flour, sugar and brownie batter lay in arcs on the wall.
"Good lord in his high chair. What did that kid do to day? Looks like Hurricane Grayson hit hard."
Anna my housekeeper/babysitter/goddess-wearing-an-apron looked more frazzled then usual. "Oh I'm sorry Miss Maggie. I tried to get it clean before you go home, but the hurricane made a repeat performance half way through."
Anna has called me Miss Maggie since the day I hired her. I've given up trying to correct her. She was part of the condition when I adopted Grayson. I didn't want to put him in day care and the Judge knew she was looking for work She is one of the best things that ever happened to us, she's not an employee she's family as cheesy as that sounds.
"Grayson turned into the Hurricane ever since Mister Brock called and said he was coming up." Anna continued.
"Brock is coming up? He said he wasn't going to be able to."
"He said that things changed, he ha a few days off and an offer you couldn't refuse."
A loud crash came from the living room, and a hurtling 5 year old wearing a green mask and cape leaped into the kitchen.
"WOOSH!" yelled Grayson, "Hi Mom! I mean, Hello Citizen."
I smiled at the messy kid I called my own. Glue and bits of paper was in his hair and the remnants of what looked to be a jelly sandwich was smeared all over his face. "Hurricane! What are you doing here?!" I asked
"Just got done saving the world with my Hurri-Powers," he said matter-of- factly.
"Well do you think you could use your Hurri-Powers and help Citizen Anna clean up Citizen Grayson's mess?"
"It would mean so much to me," Anna swooned. She used to be an actress, and her drama talents are not unappreciated in my house.
Grayson brighten he was a 5 year old with a mission now "Sure with my Hurri- Powers it'll be done in a flash!"
"And Hurricane," I asked, "would you let Citizen Gray know he needs a bath before Brock gets here?"
"AWWWWW. Really?
"Really"
"OK I guess" as he scampered out of the kitchen to clean up the papers in the living room.
"I swear," I said leaning against the wall taking my shoes off, "you feed that kid too much sugar." Anna just laughed. "Did Brock say when he was going to get here?"
"Between 7 and 7:30. He is driving up from Ames, Iowa. They were taping Smackdown there tonight."
"Ah I see," I said while grabbing a sponge and started scrubbing brownie off the walls. "What does Brock have up his sleeve this time?" I wondered.
AN: well you all made it through the prologue so I must have done something right.
If sitting at your desk and throwing pencils in the ceiling were an Olympic event, baby you would be looking at the newest gold medal winner. At the moment there are three freshly sharpened, number two pencils up there, lying in wait for the next sap to walk through my door when gravity decides to do its thing and THWAP him right in the head. I look forward to that, although I hope I can keep a straight face long enough to apologize and usher him right back out my door. If you cant have fun at your job why do it? There was a knock at my door, and one of the leaders on the snob clique, a women from accounting peered in, wrinkled her perfect little nose and asked if had signed some new form that was being required of all upper level management. She actually looked rather disappointed that I wasn't on my back with my legs in the air on the desk and one of the guys in sales enjoying himself. I smiled sweetly, "Of course I did Shelia I put it in your box this morning."
"Oh right, well just double checking." And she quickly shut the door behind her as I stuck my tongue out at her.
"Maybe you should double check your attitude." I said to no one in particular. The other women at the agency avoid me like the plague. I think they are intimidated by something about me. What that is I have no idea in hell, maybe it's my height. At 5'10" in my stocking feet I'm taller then most and my preference to wear high heels only adds to it. That and I believe having a son has something to do with it. None of them have actually come out and told me this, but I'm a smart chick. They all think he is illegitimate and me a slut, I don't tell them anything different. Why should I? They don't need to know. The men at the agency are a different story; they congregate around me like wolves on an injured deer for the same exact reason the women do avoid me. I have an "illegitimate:" kid so I must be easy and a slut. I picked up on their mating habits not quite soon enough and got my heart broken but that's another story and I won't bore you with it.
Just before 5, I packed up my stuff and left dodging the nails Shelia and her gang were piercing into my back, and virtually ran for my car. Thanking God that I could now avoid them and enjoy rush hour traffic.
Walking into my front door is always a surprise. I never quite know what Grayson had concocted that day. And today it looked like he had been in rare form. The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off, paper and glue were stuck on the floor, a half done art project on the table and an assortment of flour, sugar and brownie batter lay in arcs on the wall.
"Good lord in his high chair. What did that kid do to day? Looks like Hurricane Grayson hit hard."
Anna my housekeeper/babysitter/goddess-wearing-an-apron looked more frazzled then usual. "Oh I'm sorry Miss Maggie. I tried to get it clean before you go home, but the hurricane made a repeat performance half way through."
Anna has called me Miss Maggie since the day I hired her. I've given up trying to correct her. She was part of the condition when I adopted Grayson. I didn't want to put him in day care and the Judge knew she was looking for work She is one of the best things that ever happened to us, she's not an employee she's family as cheesy as that sounds.
"Grayson turned into the Hurricane ever since Mister Brock called and said he was coming up." Anna continued.
"Brock is coming up? He said he wasn't going to be able to."
"He said that things changed, he ha a few days off and an offer you couldn't refuse."
A loud crash came from the living room, and a hurtling 5 year old wearing a green mask and cape leaped into the kitchen.
"WOOSH!" yelled Grayson, "Hi Mom! I mean, Hello Citizen."
I smiled at the messy kid I called my own. Glue and bits of paper was in his hair and the remnants of what looked to be a jelly sandwich was smeared all over his face. "Hurricane! What are you doing here?!" I asked
"Just got done saving the world with my Hurri-Powers," he said matter-of- factly.
"Well do you think you could use your Hurri-Powers and help Citizen Anna clean up Citizen Grayson's mess?"
"It would mean so much to me," Anna swooned. She used to be an actress, and her drama talents are not unappreciated in my house.
Grayson brighten he was a 5 year old with a mission now "Sure with my Hurri- Powers it'll be done in a flash!"
"And Hurricane," I asked, "would you let Citizen Gray know he needs a bath before Brock gets here?"
"AWWWWW. Really?
"Really"
"OK I guess" as he scampered out of the kitchen to clean up the papers in the living room.
"I swear," I said leaning against the wall taking my shoes off, "you feed that kid too much sugar." Anna just laughed. "Did Brock say when he was going to get here?"
"Between 7 and 7:30. He is driving up from Ames, Iowa. They were taping Smackdown there tonight."
"Ah I see," I said while grabbing a sponge and started scrubbing brownie off the walls. "What does Brock have up his sleeve this time?" I wondered.