The small story of icklebickle and the backpack that started it all

This great story is of the creation of a middle name.

It all started with one impatient girl.

"When is the mailman coming?!" the girl shouted across the house to her mom. It was the third time she had asked in the past two minutes. She refused to leave her post by the front door, it was the closest she could get to where the package would be dropped off without having to sit outside on a hot Thursday in the Tulare County heat. 

Her mom purposely ignored her. But the girl could hear a groan from the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, she was at the stage where she was becoming the sassy pre-teen; but still anticipated surprise gifts from grandma, and waited for them by the front door expectantly. She had been waiting a whole week for her surprise gift and she wasn't going to wait any longer. Grandma called and told her it was going to be something extra special.

She ran her finger through the forgotten cobwebs made by spiders long since gone. Usually, this is where she wold be sitting for time-out, she wasn't in trouble, but she might as well be, all this waiting was torture. She heard a car outside and she leaped up  and tripped over air as she reached for the the front door handle. She swung open the door and slammed it shut, hearing her mom's muffled protests of her behavior; which were promptly ignored as she ran out out towards the mail truck, the soles of her feet burning on the cement. She stopped at the curb by the mail box just as the mail-guy was pulling up. She gave him her best cheesy grin as he handed her, quite a large package. 

"Wowza! It's heavy!" she said to herself as she skipped up the pavement.

She skipped half with excitement and half to keep her feet from melting into her walkway. She ran into the house, closing the door with her foot, slamming it again. She galloped into the kitchen reprimands from her mom rang in her ears.  

"I'm sorry." she said automatically. she grabbed the scissors and opened the box right in the middle of the kitchen. Her little sister came in an joined her in pulling out the wrapping. 

"It's a backpack! Just like you wanted for the 5th grade!" the little sister squeaked.

Yes! thought the girl. She pulled the backpack out. She recognized the label instantly, it was from one of those out-of-style-old-lady stores her heart dropped a little. she then pulled it out all the way and set it on the linoleum floor. Her eyes widened, it was a rolling backpack. That isn't cool. She could already imagine the looks she would get at school. And, not only that, it had her initials sewn into it. AIW. However, she was grateful for a new backpack, it would have been embarrassing to use the one she had since second grade. She did not get a new backpack every year like all the popular kids in her class. 

"What a great gift! That was nice of grandma." her mom broke her thoughts. 

"Ya, it is." she said with a tight smile.

The next few years, rolled past, literally, as she was constantly asked, "Are those your initials? Does your middle name start with an i? What is your middle name?" She always refused to reveal her full identity. 

Then, 8th grade came, and she was desperate for a new backpack. But her mom, a frugal woman, refused. Just one more year, it was an expensive backpack. But her mom did not know the mortifying feeling whenever her backpack was to bulky to fit into people's trunks on their way to a soccer game. Or having it tip over in the street when she walked over a curb. It was especially embarrassing when it happened in front of a guy she liked.

But she was not the only one in the same stituation. Her friend had a backpack like hers. Except hers did not have her initials sewn into it and hers wasnt as big. But it was still made from the same old person company. The two of them were good friends, and backpack buddies. They were together in this.

One day, after school she hung out with her friend/ backpack buddy. Her buddy's dad took her, her backpack buddy and her sisters to the bank, a rendezvous spot where her mom would pick her up. On the way there, her backpack buddies little sisters took note of her backpack.

"What's your middle name?"

"Ya, what is it?"

"Ya, tell us!"

The backpack buddies decided to add a little fun to the car ride.

"Guess!"

"Ok!" the little ones said in unison.

Then they randomly started shouting out names, "Isabella! Isabelle!"

"Izzy!" one of the younger ones peeped.

Her friend scoffed,"You doof! That's short for Isabella!"

"Ummmmm..... ok, how about Aileen?"

She poked the smallest little sister in the ribs and she giggled, "Aileen starts with an A."

Then they arrived at the bank parking lot. Everyone piled out of the car. The backpack buddies pulled her backpack out of the car. They waited outside for her mom to arrive, as they did so, the little sisters continued to try and guess her middle name. Eventually, the the girl and her friend started shouting out random words which started with the letter I. Then the girls backpack buddy blurted out...

"ICKLE-BICKLE! THAT'S HER MIDDLE NAME!"

Instantly there were cries of protest. 

"No way!"

"Ya, right!"

"Aw, tell us her REAL middle name! We give up!"

"Her real middle name is Ickle-Bickle!"

"Ya. It is my real middle name. My parents wanted to be creative."

Just then, her mom arrived. They said their good-byes. 

"Bye Ickle-Bickle!" all the little girls giggled. Though they did not look convinced.

"Bye!" Ickle-Bickle gave her friend a hug and winked at her, "See you at school."

"See you at school!"

Ickle-Bickle hopped into her car, "Ickle-Bickle?" her mom questioned with eye brows raised.

She smiled, "Come on mom, thats my middle name remember?" 

After the creation of her middle name, Ickle-Bickle did not mind her backpack as much, if anyone asked the answer was simply, "Ickle-Bickle." Nothing more. 

THE END:)