“I told you not to bring it! Now watch this!” I start weeping as my dad slowly tears a hole in it and, sadly, continues.
We are on the way home from Cape Cod, an annual trip, a tradition for my family. Outside it is sunny, the trees are bright green, and there are some clouds but not too much. It is perfect summer day. The temperature is in the 80s and you can feel the sun on your skin through the windows of the car.
“How’d you like the little road trip?” my mom asks.
I reply, “Yeah! I really liked the go-carts. I can’t wait until I’m 4 feet tall so I drive it by myself.” I remember those go-karts, zooming around others. My mom or my dad would go with me and the other would go with my brother, Parker. The track is one loop and a junction for the ending, starting, and storing the karts. Passing each other on the track, we’d laugh and play tricks like swerving around to block the other from getting past us. Catching the turns, you can feel the slight breeze on your face and the G-forces swaying from side to side.
I give my brother a look and we mentally exchange thoughts; should I take him out? He replies with a nod of the head and a slight smile, a yes. So I pull out my furry pet and give him to Parker. A red sea creature that we brought, a fluffy one, one of my favorites. We make the pet jump onto the ledges inside the car, talking like it could. My dad finally notice and tells us,
“You guys didn’t listen, did you? Put it away or see what happens.”
We move the sea creature onto Dad’s shoulder as he drove, and I could tell that it annoyed him. Then it happened, he swiped the animal out of our hands and we watched, as he ripped both arms off and the fluff poured out. I cried as I saw, wanting the ability to redo what just happened.
“See what happens when you ignore me!”
I should listen to my dad, shouldn’t I? My stuffed animal Lobstery is now Shrimpy.