Saturday, October 17, 2009

Slow children

So it had been a regular day for third grade. We all loved Miss Dilworth. She was blond, beautiful, young,m and she drove a Barracuda. How cool was that.

The most not regular thing about the day was that it was my birthday.

I got home from school after the usual walk. My big sister had her usual report for my mother about my walk home, as if she was a superior being.

"Well, he walked so slow, and I told him to hurry, and he didn't".

"Why don;t you listen to your sister?" Ok, so I'm a third grader. She's in 4th. Listen to her? I went slow, a crime? Not fast enough for her?

"I can never trust you. Get upstairs out of my sight".

The warm greeting of a mother.

"Can't even have a decent birthday" I muttered going up the stairs.

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