Hum a Little Tune

I know, I know its sad that I've already missed a day of writing a story! But hey I'm going to write two today now!! I do have an excuse and I believe that it is a good one: the internet at our apartment doesn't work and when it does its around the time that Tyson needs it to do homework and most of the time it only works when you plug into the wall! So that's my excuse. And one last thing: please vote! And if you're really energetic maybe even leave of comment of how my writing is or what I can improve on. The voting thing is at the top of the blog and all you have do to is click on one of the options and then on vote. It doesn't even tell me who did what vote it is anonymous Thanks! Enjoy Yesterdays Story!

*WARNING this story involves a little blood*

          Do you ever have moments where you wish you could go back in time and slap some sense into your past self? That was the first thing I wished to do as I woke up to my husband trying to pull me out of bed at 6:30 in the morning. For some strange reason I had told Tyson that I wanted to wake up at 6:30 with him and told him to get me out of bed no matter what. So here we were, my hands clutching to our warm bed sheets for dear life with my husband gradually pulling me away.
     "You're letting all the warmth out! Let go!" I cry in desperation. I know I was being stubborn but less sleep makes it harder for me to think clearly and I was determined to stay in the nice cozey bed and get at least fifteen more minutes of sleep. A huge smile crosses Tyson face and I know that smile, its his scheming smile which means I'm in for one heck of a ride. All the sudden I feel one huge tug and I'm flying off the bed. I knew my strength wouldn't last against his but I had to try. I look up at Tyson with what I describe as a look that could kill, but Tyson just starts laughing as he heads off to the bathroom.
     "Don't forget you asked for my help in getting you out of bed." Tyson reminds me.
     "Yeah, but I didn't you to physically throw me out of bed." I tell him, putting more emphasis into the word ‘throwing’, as I walk past the bathroom to the kitchen. 'I apparently need to choose me words wisely' I think to myself. I look in the fridge and am suddenly reminder that we are out of milk. 'Well cereal is out, what else to do have to eat here?' I think as my mood drops more and more. I look around the kitchen hoping for something to eat. I end up with my home made bread and the raspberry jam I had made with Jill this past weekend. As I walk over to the table to sit down and enjoy my breakfast I feel a sharp, stabbing pain in my foot shoot up my body.
     "OUCH!" I cry out. I drop the food on the table and quickly sit down on my chair to examine what could cause so much pain. I examine my throbbing foot and see nothing but a little spot of blood. I squeeze more blood out hoping that whatever is in there will come out with it.
      "Dang it! That hurts!" I whine. I hear Tyson coming to see what’s causing me so much pain. He then looks at it and starts to laugh.
     "Are you kidding me? Its just a little scratch." He then grabs some bread and jam and starts eating. Ignoring his comment, I hop on my one healthy foot to the bathroom and grab some tweezers out of the medical kit and sit down on the bathroom counter. I then start doing a medical exam looking for anything that could still be in my wound. I hear Tyson dropping his dishes in the sink and then walking towards the bathroom. He leans in the doorway of the bathroom with a grin on his face.
     "Hey I'm leaving for school, I'll see you later" he says as he kisses me on the forehead.
     "All right bye, love you." I say as I'm intently searching for anything in my wound. I then hear him grab his bike and walk out the door.
          After five minutes of searching for something I was starting to get frustrated. I couldn't see anything in the wound but I could still feel something there. Finally I just started pulling at skin and trying to pin point where that object was. Then my tweezers scraped across something that caused that same amount of pain that I had felt earlier. I swiped it back across that same area and found what I had been searching so hard for but couldn't see, glass. I pulled it out staring at it in awe. 'Why is there glass on my floor!?' I think to myself. Then it hits me, Tyson had dropped a glass cup last week. I role my eyes because I wasn't surprised that some glass had fallen on the floor. I distinctly remember saying, 'Shake the rug outside! I don't want glass on my floor.' I drop the piece of glass into the garbage can and start to clean up my foot.
          After my foot is clean I walk to the bedroom slip my white, fluffy slippers on my feet and walk back into the kitchen. I grab my broom and start cleaning the floor hoping to sweep up any more glass that could be on the floor. After I'm done with that I feel a sigh of relief inside of me. I then realize that it doesn't matter what events happen to you during the day, what makes the day bad is your attitude. We decided how our day is going to be, not the other way around. I turn the radio on and start getting ready for work humming to the song - today is going to be a good day.