I wish to follow my SEVEN year old brother's footsteps. I am only five, which is little compared to my brother.
I watch my brother with a red crayon on the blue wall. I want to tell mommy, but something stops me. He is trying to spell the word perfect but I can see the mistakes all over. He has the p backwards and is missing the c. I tell him so, but he doesn't listen to me. He just shrugs his shoulders. I know it's mean but I wish he could talk like a normal person.
I take the blue crayon and write the perfect perfect. The crayon blended into the wall and I see that I made a mistake. I forgot the c, just like my brother. My brother signs with his hands to tell me that I did a good job. I feel guilty because he didn't know I made a mistake.
My mean cousin says, "Look at this RETARD! How old are you? Seven ain't it? And your sister did a perfect job, and you have so many things to work on to make your word perfect." I hate my cousin with his big talk.
I take the red crayon and make the word perfect as unperfect it could be, while being able to tell what it is. You can clearly see the imperfections.
My cousin leaves with a frown on his face as I hug my brother with our imperfect perfects remaining on the blue wall.
