Today was the Fourth of July, yet there was nothing to do. Unlike my other friends who went to Disney World and fun water parks, I was at home, on the couch. But I didn’t feel like I was missing out. Going to Disney World and the water park would mean complication: Preparing for the trip, transportation, and an endless chain of events. Lounging on the couch meant there would be absolutely no inferiors. I was wrong. As I was licking my tricolored popsicle, savoring the tangy lemon, citrus blue raspberry, and exquisitely sweet cherry, there suddenly came a sound.
“RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!” My senses reacted immediately, and as I turned my head around at the scene, two things happened at once. First, A speedy creature chomped at my hand, causing my fingers to unfold and drop the popsicle. Second, my eyes boring upon a constipated version of my new summer science project. My fists enclosing steadily, face draining into the color of a ripe plum, I snatched at a huge clump of sleek black fur that turned its face towards me, revealing its so called, “puppy eyes.”
“Why are you eating a red, white and blue popsicle?” My older brother asked questionably, as he walked into the room. Then he immediately changed his perspective after seeing me. “Jeez, why are you so waspish?” I took a deep breath and turned my head to my older brother, squinting my eyes to the max. How dare he use complex vocabulary when I am just on the verge of turning into a plum-colored monster? Luckily, I had enough serotonin to calm down and return to the couch. This may have not been as bad as I thought it was.
Just then, my parents arrived at the scene, eyes glued at the mess. “What…” They said at a loss for words. I swatted my hand as a gesture of, “please don’t say anything, I can’t explain it” and stormed off to my room, where more trouble awaited me.
“PECKPECKKPECKKKK!!!!!” Came the noise of a family of elephantine woodpeckers, obviously engaged in the job of rupturing the headboard of my freshly polished bed.
“Arge!” I yelled in rage. With unexpectedly good hearing, my next-door neighbor, an elderly woman, came to the rescue and stood at my front door asking if I was okay and if I could accept her homemade red, white and blue cookies.
I allowed myself to take a cookie and calm down when a sickly burst of saltiness filled my taste buds. “Y-yo-ou…use..-d…BLEH! Ss-alt…insteaa-dd oph suug-ggar…” And before she could stop me, I turned on my heel, shut the door, and collapsed up the stairs into my bed, feeling as sick as ever. Turns out, my family and neighborhood had all mistaken the Fourth of July as April Fool’s Day.
“RRRRRIIIIPPPPP!!” My senses reacted immediately, and as I turned my head around at the scene, two things happened at once. First, A speedy creature chomped at my hand, causing my fingers to unfold and drop the popsicle. Second, my eyes boring upon a constipated version of my new summer science project. My fists enclosing steadily, face draining into the color of a ripe plum, I snatched at a huge clump of sleek black fur that turned its face towards me, revealing its so called, “puppy eyes.”
“Why are you eating a red, white and blue popsicle?” My older brother asked questionably, as he walked into the room. Then he immediately changed his perspective after seeing me. “Jeez, why are you so waspish?” I took a deep breath and turned my head to my older brother, squinting my eyes to the max. How dare he use complex vocabulary when I am just on the verge of turning into a plum-colored monster? Luckily, I had enough serotonin to calm down and return to the couch. This may have not been as bad as I thought it was.
Just then, my parents arrived at the scene, eyes glued at the mess. “What…” They said at a loss for words. I swatted my hand as a gesture of, “please don’t say anything, I can’t explain it” and stormed off to my room, where more trouble awaited me.
“PECKPECKKPECKKKK!!!!!” Came the noise of a family of elephantine woodpeckers, obviously engaged in the job of rupturing the headboard of my freshly polished bed.
“Arge!” I yelled in rage. With unexpectedly good hearing, my next-door neighbor, an elderly woman, came to the rescue and stood at my front door asking if I was okay and if I could accept her homemade red, white and blue cookies.
I allowed myself to take a cookie and calm down when a sickly burst of saltiness filled my taste buds. “Y-yo-ou…use..-d…BLEH! Ss-alt…insteaa-dd oph suug-ggar…” And before she could stop me, I turned on my heel, shut the door, and collapsed up the stairs into my bed, feeling as sick as ever. Turns out, my family and neighborhood had all mistaken the Fourth of July as April Fool’s Day.
