“Clarke Isaac Hanson, WHERE ARE YOU?” I could hear my mom screaming her head off. Instead of answering, I crouched low behind the kitchen counter, ready for the attack. I motioned for Taylor, who was behind the opposite counter, to stay quiet. Both of us had weapons; I had a dagger and Taylor had his faithful sword. After waiting forever, Mom finally walked into the kitchen.
Taylor and I crouched down lower, and I could barely see Taylor’s face from under his cap. Then, right as Mom walked by...Dad grabbed me by the collar and Zac jumped Taylor. “AGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Taylor’s yell and mine mingled together and streaked through the house. As Dad lifted me up and began to gives me noogies, Zac simply pounded Taylor with his fists, and that five year old can POUND!
Meanwhile, our victim-to-be just sat there, shaking her head and laughing. As hard as I tried not to, I found myself cracking up. Soon Taylor and Zac joined in. Zac didn’t know why he was laughing but he’ll think of any reason to do whatever Taylor and me are doing.
Afterwards, Dad sentenced me and Taylor to an hour of extra piano practicing as punishment. I grumbled and Tay’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, yeah, way to punish Tay, Dad.’ I thought. Taylor loved the piano; he could pound on that thing for hours. I liked it alright, but I got tired of it quickly, especially when I was learning something by that dude Bach.
When all of us guys were finally done beating each other, Mom just smiled and then went upstairs to help out our newborn baby sister, Avery. Lately Jessica had been a little jealous because she wasn’t the only girl in the family but Mom had been insisting Avery would be lots of fun later on.
I didn’t find out the reason Mom had been yelling at me until later that night at the dinner table. I surveyed the table hungrily: rolls, gravy, and the thickest steak I had ever seen (then again, I’m eleven.) I hungrily began stuffing myself and so did Taylor, even though he’s just a little shrimp. Zac tried but only succeeded in smearing the gravy all over himself; it was funny because Avery kept on trying to put her mashed potatos on Zac (she’s smart bright four-month old baby!)
As I put the last giantitic piece of steak in my mouth, my Mom told me, “Isaac, you’ve a friendship responsibility tomorrow; you have to keep one of my friend’s children company.” At this, I could feel my eyes widen and I began to choke. “Ack.” I managed to get out; at first Dad thought I was acting stupid but he soon realized I was kidding around. Zac, being the loving little brother that he is, pounded on my back, causing me to spit out the steak, and causing Avery to follow in example.
Ignoring Avery I said loudly, “What? Who? When?” and started shooting questions at Mom expertly a million miles a minute. My Mom sat there for a minute, listening to me ramble (it’s a habit), and then, after about five minutes, got up and stuck a roll in my mouth to make me shut up.
“She’s about a month younger than you and her name is Marissa.” Mom said calmly, cleaning Avery’s mess. Zac started laughing as I stared straight ahead with bright, amazed eyes and a roll stuck in my half-open mouth. “That must be some girl, to make you look like that.” Zac said. If only he knew who right he would turn out to be.
