No school today, of course, but Alex was still gone most of the time as she had soccer practice. When she came home, she said loudly, “How lovely my room looks! Except for my desk, of course, which is quite a mess. I do hope that’s all right.”
“Thank you, miss,” I called. “ ’Tis nice to be appreciated.”
Then I scrambled out for our daily chat, which I have come to look forward to.
Alas, it only took about two minutes for it to go sour. That was because after we exchanged a few pleasantries, she said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and it might be fun to have a pet brownie.”
I leaped to my feet. Jumping up and down and shaking my fists, I shrieked, “Pet? PET?! Take the foul word back, ya horrid girl! I made a spit swear to make you happy. Now you turn around and spit in my face. I am a brownie, fierce and proud, and I AM NAE A PET!”
With that, I jumped down to the floor and scurried back to the closet.
“You have a pretty big temper for such a little man!” she shouted. Which did not make things any better.
Now that I’ve settled down, I am not sure which was worse—what she said, or the way I pitched a fit after she said it.
I have to remember she is a barbarian and not used to civilized ways.
Also, I need to work on my temper.