“But I don’t want to!” I whined in protest. My ridiculous parents insist on trying to embarrass me every chance they get, but this time they’ve gone too far. It’ll be in front of the whole county. What are they thinking?! Everyone will be there…friends, family, classmates. The teasing will be endless. I’m seven years old; I can’t be seen like this! Why do they have to think it’s their responsibility to torture their children?
My mother tries to persuade me in her sweet voice, “Come on, honey. You’ll be adorable. Everyone will think it’s cute.”
“Cute! I’ll look like an idiot. Why don’t you do it, if you think it’s so adorable?” It didn’t take long for me to realize I had replied a little too harshly, after I glanced at my father.
“Stop acting like a two year old,” my dad said forcefully. “Do as you mother says and put on the costume.”
After hearing the tone of his voice, I knew there was no way out of the situation. There was nowhere to hide; no place to run. I was stuck. So I pulled on my hideous purple wig, allowed my mom to paint my face, and grabbed hold of the little red wagon full of candy and my basset hound, Lucky. He glanced up at me with those sad eyes clearly enjoying his costume as much as I was enjoying mine. I shake my head sadly as I trudge toward the parade with my wagon.
“Well, Lucky, it looks like the circus is in town.”
Love this :)
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