Haley the Contrary Protests

"Do you mind your name being Haley the Contrary in my Nanowrimo novel?" I wrote on the notepad. We were in church, so we didn't want to start whispering and draw stern looks from the quiet, well-behaved churchgoers.

"I do not give you permission to use me in your writing," Holly, my oldest daughter, age 20, wrote back.

"It's not really you. Silly."

"Too bad. Anything in reference to me then."

"It's not really you. Silly," I wrote again.

Then I changed the subject, adding, "Hey, I think we should sing all the songs in the hymnal in order, starting January 1, 2009. "

Seriously. There are lots and lots we never sing! It doesn't seem fair to ignore so many.

But Haley, I mean, Holly, being contrary, did some quick math and wrote, "I don't think that would work. 668 hymns at 5 hymns per Sunday, 52 weeks per year, would work out to over two years."

I guess we should start right away then. Sure, we wouldn't be singing Christmas songs at the appropriate time, but that's the way it goes.

None of this has anything to do with nanowrimo, really. It's just that I've got writer's block. The aliens snuck into my fairy tale and blasted away all my ideas.