Writer's Diary

Day Six: Falling Off Beds

AN- No school today! Woohoo! My little brother is going to camp for three days too, and I got to watch a Bourne movie last night, so I am living the dream! I might get to watch another tonight, if I have time, and I am super excited! Boring slow day, though, basically me doing homework, playing minecraft, and helping my dad rewire the house. I did have a bit of an adventure, if you could call it that.

I groaned as I curled into a ball on my parents' bed. The bed was unmade, my dad having just got up. Little did I know, he was back in the room; I had my eyes closed so I did not see him grab all the blankets and pillows, of which there are many, and toss them on me.

Suddenly, it was dark and smelled like my mom. I thrashed and wiggled, but only tangled myself up more. My dad was laughing so hard, he wheezed.

"This is NOT funny, dad!" I yelled through the warm, green blankets.

"Yeah, it is." he squeezed out among giggles and snickers.

I heard him walk out and go to the bathroom. "Daaaaaad!" I yelled, "I'm stuck!" and I really was stuck. I could not get out of the Blake unless he helped me. This is bad. He will probably leave me me for half an hour with nothing to do but yell until I couldn't anymore.

"Dad! I'll eat all of your chocolate!" we both love chocolate, so this will definitely get him.

Dad responded by laughing again, "You have to get out first!" Darn it. He had me there.

I yelled dad every five seconds for the next fifteen minutes before I decided to wiggle around some more to see if I could make any progress. Instead, I rolled of the bed and fell on the floor.

"Ow!" I groaned. "This is your fault dad!" I yelled to him.

"What is?" he bellowed back.

"I fell of the bed!" was my loud response.

Dad couldn't even talk he was laughing so hard. I lay there silently, unable to do anything, but at least I was warm. Our house has been cold the last few days, because my dad was redoing the kitchen and we now have a lovely hole in the ceiling, and that hole led to our attic, and cold air poured out of that hole day and night.

Five minutes later my dad walked in, and immediately fell into a fit of chortling. I glared at him and spoke through the blankets wrapped around me like a cocoon: "Not funny, dad! Now help me out!" I didn't bother adding a please, feeling he did not deserve that courtesy.

I heard him moving around, but didn't know what he was doing, until he grabbed my feet and started to tickle me, even though I thought my feet would be safe wrapped in a protective shell of fabric as they were, it was not so. I started laughing against my will and propelled my blanket-wrapped body forwards to escape my father's dangerous fingers.

My head hit the wall, not to hard, and I wiggled some more before finally freeing my head. I could see what was happening, and I saw my dad laughing silently as tears slid down his face. I glare, hard, but this only seemed to amuse him more as he fell onto his bed and clutched his stomach. I spoke, voice husky from over-use, "This is not funny!" and stomped out of the room. Nice to know my dad is amused, because I certainly wasn't. How dare he do something like that?!

AN- So, that actually happened. Dad is still laughing...I swear I'm not clumsy! I just have a sixth sense for finding sleeping, invisible people! Anyways, please vote and comment!