"I tripped over that bucket over there." Molly explains. Her leg was swelling big time. Why is it that every time I get some attention, Molly has to steal it? I saw it all. She kicked the metal leg on the bench. Last year, I won a pie eating contest. All of a sudden, Molly happened to "wander" into a pie baking contest and made first place. But why should I say something? I'll just be accused as unsympathetic to my vey own sister. Or too selfish. Or even uncaring and unkind to human beings all over the globe (someone has seriously been told that to me). Instead, I just force a caring expression and say, "Are you alright?" She weakly smiles and nods. "I think so."
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Picture this: we are sitting on a bus. Sammie behind my seat, kicking it with pleasure. Caleb is in my lap, sleeping. Dana is sitting next to me, holding Molly. Molly has a pack of ice held on her leg. It is held by a peice of cloth wrapped around her leg. She's holding- hugging- Dana tightly around her neck. We're taking a detour to the hospital. The bus is going the opposite direction than the way we need to be going.
As we get off, Molly slides into Sammie's arms. Dana turns towards us and announces, "What do you say kids?" Her foot is tapping. "Thank you." We all mumble. Well, except for Caleb, but he is asleep. I honestly don't think it's fair to count that. However, it IS fair to annoy Dana, so as she slips off the bus, I mock her. "Your a child, too. Why didn't YOU say it with us?" She glares at me. "I don't want to hear it until Molly is feeling better." Man, she's in a bad mood.
I glance at my watch. It's 11:25 am. Well never make it in time. Correction: we're already late.
YOU ARE READING
What to do with my undead mother
FantasyThings are going horrible for the kids of the Robinson family, who are trying to move into a new house. First, Molly, the second youngest, breaks her foot. Now, their mother died in a plane crash. Refusing to let her kids go into an orphanage, Ms...
