Eronoh
I could see it first in her eyes.
The surprise.
The panic.
The culprit emerged, studiously ignoring us as he licked a paw.
Her face turned red,
she began to squeak,
and her ears started to swell.
I don't know what's ahead of me.
All my life I've been anticipating this.
What's ahead.
Where I will go.
What I'll see.
What I'll do.
Who I'll meet.
But now I'm afraid
because I can't see what's ahead.
I hate it when people cry in front of me.
I'm really not a very comforting person.
My idea of comfort is a bowl of spicy chili in front of the game with a roaring fire in the middle of a torrential thunderstorm.
So I'm not really good at comforting my friends when they cry.
I wouldn't call myself much of a politician.
At least not when my sister has worn my boots to school again without asking.
Then, diplomacy is not necessary.
Repercussions are.
You must make your bed. This is what my mother tells me every morning. I must make my bed the moment I am out of it. That doesn't make sense to me. Why must I make my bed? I'm going to be right back in it, messing it up tonight. So what's the point in making it? Sure, perhaps I do have to get out and get dressed. But I'd much rather leave my bed the way it was.