Sparks Fly
Heh. Interesting story.
Not even an hour after Shana and I had taken the bread out of the bread machine, Shana had to go to practice. Unfortunately, she had lost her helmet.
I had thought that Shana had already left for practice, but the whole time I'd thought she was gone, she'd actually been frantically searching for her helmet. Finally, desperate, she came upstairs to look, though she doubted that it was there.
"Alicia, could you help me find my helmet?"
I sighed. This seemed to be something that happened a lot. Shana was always losing things, and always asking me to help her. Unfortunately, I never seemed to be able to find the things she lost, so it seemed rather pointless for me to try. Still, I humored her, despite the fact that I had no idea where it could be, since I was not her and had not seen it. Then something occured to me.
"Do you think that it could be in the truck, Shane Train?"
It might seem silly to call her Shane Train, but I had done so for years, and it seemed every bit as normal as saying Shana. It wasn't to be cute or sweet or anything; it was just her name.
"No, it's not in the truck. I already looked there."
I sighed. I wasn't going to be much help. Just yesterday she had asked me to help her find her missing insert for running practice, and I searched as hard as I could. So did she, for that matter, but neither of us found it until we walked outside and found Sparky chewing on it. Somehow, I didn't think we were going to find the helmet.
Speaking of Sparky. . .
As Shana had walked in the house, she had unfortunately left the doors open, allowing Sparky and Itchy to follow her inside. I considered taking them back outside, immediately, but Shana was very frantic about getting to practice on time, and the helmet seemed to be top priority.
"Alicia? Would you search through the closets while I look downstairs again?"
"Okay Shana." I'd put the dogs out after we found the helmet, hopefully that would be before they got the urge to pee.
Walking toward the diningroom I heard a loud clatter of glass and cringed. To my relief, there was no shattering, and I wondered at the cause. The answer came clearly in the form of a black dog leaving the house quickly, but without running, as if to keep from being suspicious, with its tail between its legs. I went into the kitchen and saw the plate on the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief to find it hadn't even cracked. Then I recalled what had been airing out on that plate. . . the recently made bread. I ran out the door calling out the cursed dog's name.
"SPARKY!!!"
The dog was way ahead of me. I'm sure she'd begun running as soon as she was out the door, though how she managed to keep me from seeing the whole loaf of bread hanging from her mouth (it's about 3/4 of a foot long) as she snuck out the door is beyone me. Darned sneaky mutt.
"THIEF!!!" I called out after her, as she ran away. It had no effect, whatsoever.
We never did find the helmet. Shana borrowed someone else's.
Not even an hour after Shana and I had taken the bread out of the bread machine, Shana had to go to practice. Unfortunately, she had lost her helmet.
I had thought that Shana had already left for practice, but the whole time I'd thought she was gone, she'd actually been frantically searching for her helmet. Finally, desperate, she came upstairs to look, though she doubted that it was there.
"Alicia, could you help me find my helmet?"
I sighed. This seemed to be something that happened a lot. Shana was always losing things, and always asking me to help her. Unfortunately, I never seemed to be able to find the things she lost, so it seemed rather pointless for me to try. Still, I humored her, despite the fact that I had no idea where it could be, since I was not her and had not seen it. Then something occured to me.
"Do you think that it could be in the truck, Shane Train?"
It might seem silly to call her Shane Train, but I had done so for years, and it seemed every bit as normal as saying Shana. It wasn't to be cute or sweet or anything; it was just her name.
"No, it's not in the truck. I already looked there."
I sighed. I wasn't going to be much help. Just yesterday she had asked me to help her find her missing insert for running practice, and I searched as hard as I could. So did she, for that matter, but neither of us found it until we walked outside and found Sparky chewing on it. Somehow, I didn't think we were going to find the helmet.
Speaking of Sparky. . .
As Shana had walked in the house, she had unfortunately left the doors open, allowing Sparky and Itchy to follow her inside. I considered taking them back outside, immediately, but Shana was very frantic about getting to practice on time, and the helmet seemed to be top priority.
"Alicia? Would you search through the closets while I look downstairs again?"
"Okay Shana." I'd put the dogs out after we found the helmet, hopefully that would be before they got the urge to pee.
Walking toward the diningroom I heard a loud clatter of glass and cringed. To my relief, there was no shattering, and I wondered at the cause. The answer came clearly in the form of a black dog leaving the house quickly, but without running, as if to keep from being suspicious, with its tail between its legs. I went into the kitchen and saw the plate on the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief to find it hadn't even cracked. Then I recalled what had been airing out on that plate. . . the recently made bread. I ran out the door calling out the cursed dog's name.
"SPARKY!!!"
The dog was way ahead of me. I'm sure she'd begun running as soon as she was out the door, though how she managed to keep me from seeing the whole loaf of bread hanging from her mouth (it's about 3/4 of a foot long) as she snuck out the door is beyone me. Darned sneaky mutt.
"THIEF!!!" I called out after her, as she ran away. It had no effect, whatsoever.
We never did find the helmet. Shana borrowed someone else's.