On Monday morning, I wake up extra early because I have a plan. My plan is to scare my little brother, Ben. He’s okay most of the time, but he also bugs me. He likes to make jokes, and sometimes they are about me.
Last week, he kept saying “Dolores is a brontosaurus! Dolores is a brontosaurus!” because he likes rhymes. Dolores is my first name, but I go by Lola.
“I’m NOT a brontosaurus!” I tell Ben. “Dinosaurs have small brains, and mine is big!”
Ben might be good at rhyming, but guess what? I’m good at scaring people, and since it’s almost Halloween, I’m going to scare Ben this morning. I wait outside his door until I hear my dad call up the stairs like he does every morning before school.
“Kids! Wake up! Breakfast in fifteen minutes!”
I hear some mumbles and grumbles, and then I hear Ben get up. I know he’ll come out of his room soon, so I pretend to be a ghost and throw on a white sheet with holes cut out for the eyes. I crouch and wait, and when Ben steps into the hallway, I jump out in front of him and say, “Boo!” Ben jumps back and trips over his own feet. “Gotcha!” I say, and start laughing.