In a small neighborhood in a small old house quite a while ago lived a family named the Petersons, with the father; a short rotund cheerful man with a small round head, around nose and chin, brown eyes, and brown hair that was beginning to turn gray; the eldest son Drake; a tall, fit, eighteen year old with dark black hair, brown eyes, a pointed chin and nose; and the youngest, Henry; a skinny ten year old boy with light brown hair a pointed chin and around nose and bright yellow-gold eyes. It was around five o'clock and the skies were filled with dark clouds. The two boys were in the living room Drake watching TV and Henry playing with toy trains.
"All right boys I got to go." said Mr. Peterson as he was putting on a brown coat and hat.
"Go where?" Henry asked peeking over the couch.
"My boss called, he wants to meet with me now." he said. "Drake you're in charge until I get back."
"Ok," Drake said not looking away from the TV.
"Why can't I be in charge?" complained Henry with a scowl.
"Maybe when you're older." Mr. Peterson answered.
"Ok, dad!" Henry said going back to his trains.
"Drake, I left a sticky note with instructions for dinner on the fridge, please make some dinner and leave
some for me." Mr. Peterson said."K, whatever." Drake said sounding bored.
"I'll be back in an hour or so, so behave you two." Mr. Peterson said as he left. The boys heard the car start up and drive away.
"Can I watch a show now?" asked Henry climbing on the arm of the couch.
"No, I'm still watching my show." Drake said.
"But that's what you said two hours ago!" Henry exclaimed getting annoyed.
"It's a marathon ding dong!" Drake said he loved to tease his brother.
"Quit calling me ding dong! It's rude and what does it even mean?!"
"It means you're a doorbell." Drake quietly laughed to himself.
"Aren't you supposed to be making dinner?!" Henry was clever and knew how to change a subject or stop an argument.
"Fine, you win!" Drake sighed as he got up off the couch, dropped the remote by Henry and walked into the kitchen. Henry sat in Drakes spot and turned on a show with a smirk. He had won. In the kitchen, Drake began to cook dinner. After Henry's show was over he joined Drake in the kitchen.
"Whatcha makin?" Henry asked.
"Uh, dinner." Drake said.
"No! I meant what's for dinner?" Henry asked a little annoyed.
"Food," Drake answered sarcastically, "food is for dinner."
"Drake!" Henry was getting frustrated. "tell me what kind of food!"
"Alright gees! It's chicken." Drake said loosing his sarcastic tone.
"Thank you." Henry said, paused and then asked, "can I help?"
"No!" Drake said as if Henry was planning on blowing up the food.
"Why not!?" Henry wined
"Because you do.....that!" Drake answered while putting pepper on the chicken.
"Do what?"
"That winning thing."
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
YOU ARE READING
Book of Short Stories
Short StoryThis is a book full of short stories that I thought were too short for an entire book so I'm putting them all into one.