Skeeter

Skeeter

Skeeter Every summer, Hayden spent a week camping in his Nana Ally’s backyard in Spottsville, Kentucky. It wasn’t a big adventure by most folks’ standards. Just an old canvas tent, a couple of lawn chairs, a flashlight, a sky full of stars… …and mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds. Before Hayden arrived one summer, Nana Ally had a little surprise. She tucked a tiny black dragon egg beneath the lilac bush beside the tent. Inside the egg was the smallest black dragon you’d ever seen. Well… A tiny 3D-printed dragon. But Hayden didn’t know that. On the first evening of camp, Nana Ally smiled and said, “Why don’t you go see if you can find somethin’ special around that old lilac bush?” Hayden searched for all of thirty seconds before he shouted, “Nana! I found an egg!” “It certainly looks like one,” she said, pretending to be just as surprised as he was. Hayden carefully twisted the little top. Inside sat the tiniest black dragon imaginable. It fit in the palm of his hand. Its little wings were folded neatly against its back. Its face looked serious… A huge smile spread across Hayden’s face. “What is he?” Hayden whispered. Nana Ally leaned close. “Well now… that’s Skeeter.” “Skeeter?” “That’s right.” “What does he do?” She lowered her voice as if the neighbors weren’t supposed to hear. “Little dragons don’t fight knights.” “They don’t?” “Nope.” “They eat mosquitoes.” Hayden gasped. “Every single one?” “If they work hard enough.” From that moment on, Skeeter had a very important job. Every evening, Hayden carefully placed Skeeter just outside the tent. Then, without fail, Nana Ally would say, “Honey, would you run inside and wash your hands before supper?” The second the back door closed… Nana Ally reached into her pocket. Out came a little can of mosquito spray. “Psssst…” Around the picnic table. “Psssst…” Around the tent. “Psssst…” Around the chairs. By the time Hayden came back outside… The mosquitoes were gone. Hayden’s eyes lit up every single time. “Nana!” “Skeeter did it again!” Nana Ally looked over at the tiny dragon sitting exactly where Hayden had left him. “Well, bless his little dragon heart,” she’d say. “Looks like he had another busy evening.” The neighbors smiled. The grown-ups smiled. Everybody knew Skeeter wasn’t chasing mosquitoes. Everybody except Hayden. And somehow… That made the story even sweeter. Every autumn, when the nights turned cool, Hayden would ask, “What happens when winter comes?” Nana Ally would gently pick up Skeeter and place him back inside his little black egg. “Little dragons hibernate,” she’d explain. “They sleep all winter so they’ll be ready when mosquito season comes back.” Hayden would carefully screw the lid back on. “Sleep good, Skeeter.” “We’ll see you in the spring.” Year after year, the ritual never changed. The same backyard. The same old tent. The same little dragon. The same grandmother. One day Hayden would be old enough to notice the can of bug spray. Old enough to understand why the mosquitoes always disappeared while he was inside. Old enough to realize Skeeter had never eaten a single mosquito. But he’d also be old enough to understand something even more important. The real magic had never been the dragon. It had always been Nana Ally. She knew that sometimes the greatest gift you can give a child… …is a story they’ll carry long after they’ve stopped believing in dragons.

Smell Of The Day

I wrote “Smell of the Day” because sometimes the smallest, strangest moments reveal the biggest truths about how we show up for each other. A weird smell, a lost fork, a questionable discovery—suddenly it’s not just about lunch anymore. It’s about who laughs, who panics, who judges, and who just quietly exits with dignity intact. As someone with dyslexia, I’ve always experienced stories as sound and feeling first—rhythm, tone, energy—before they ever become words on a page. For a long time, that made me feel like I was out of step. Now I realize it just means I’m tuned to a different frequency. This story lives in that frequency. The dream cast represents voices that carry presence—people who can turn a simple moment into something unforgettable just by being fully themselves. They remind me that storytelling isn’t about perfection. It’s about connection, timing, and truth wrapped in humor. Script-Coms™ is where those instincts come to life—stories that move quickly, feel vividly, and invite you to hear them as much as read them. They’re meant to be shared, performed, and experienced in a way that feels alive. I love being a dyslexic, voice-driven storyteller. Welcome to my world. It’s weird in here—and it smells a little funny, too. #SmellOfTheDay #ScriptComs #WorkplaceComedy #QueerJoy #FoundFamily #DyslexicStoryteller #VoiceDriven #ComedySketch #SNLVibes #CreativeWriting

Young Felix

Felix loved summertime and his three-ring blow-up pool. He always had a strong personality. I mean—really something. I should know. I’m the mother. He could make me do one of three things at any given moment: laugh, cry, or hide.

Celebrate Found Family Day with me July 1.

Celebrate Found Family Day with me July 1. Found Family Day I’m declaring July 1st Found Family Day. Partly because July 1st is my birthday. I was born one day outside of Pride Month. And lately, it feels like there are a lot of people trying to shrink Pride, minimize it, shorten it, or pretend it doesn’t deserve a month at all. So I had a different idea. Why not make it bigger? Why not add a day? Not to replace Pride. Not to compete with it. Just to celebrate one of the things Pride helped many of us find. Family. Not always the family we’re born into. The family we build. DNA is just molecules stacked together in a very pretty order. Found family is different. Found family is choice. It’s the people who stay. The people who answer the phone. The people who show up when life gets weird. The people who become family because everyone involved decided they mattered. This is the second annual Found Family Day. I’m celebrating it on the first Saturday after July 1st by camping in the park with friends, telling stories, laughing too loudly, eating too much food, and appreciating the people who somehow haven’t gotten rid of me yet. If you have people you’ve found along the way—people who became family through trust, time, loyalty, love, friendship, or shared chaos—celebrate them. Call them. Text them. Invite them over. Spend time together. Found family isn’t about where you came from. It’s about who stays. Happy Found Family Day. And to my found family: Thank you for choosing me. I choose you too. #IFelixYou #FoundFamilyDay #ChosenFamily #Pride

The Field Is Alive

Script-Coms™ returns with a brand-new episode: The Field Is Alive. Three friends. One fabric intervention. A softball game nobody was emotionally prepared for. And a seasonal dating strategy that may or may not require its own calendar. Just when you thought this was turning into The Sound of Music, Felix finds himself on a softball field, David finds new ways to test a friendship, and Stephanie proves once again that normal is merely a suggestion. This field is alive. Full of twists. Full of turns. Full of questionable decisions. And somehow, against all odds, a surprisingly fulfilling ending. So grab your oversized sunglasses, avoid the polyester crime scenes, and whatever you do—don't encourage the frisky lizards. Script-Coms™ presents: The Field Is Alive.