Sometimes the kids are the real adults. |
With bunny slippers and my Cinderella nightgown on, I head to go confront them. I heard them pull into the driveway. Mrs. Sneaky and her so called star cross lover. I gave her a curfew and she broke it, how dare her. I bet she doesn’t even know I am awake, I bet she thinks she’s going to get away with it. She is such a naive girl. I scurry down the stairs as quiet as possible. I search the house glancing left and right. Into the living room I go and JACKPOT! I see them, Intertwined and Lip locked. Disgusting. They think that they’re slick sneaking around. I can hear them now whispering “no one will find us in here.” Yet they’re in the middle of the room on the couch. I flick on the light and let them have it. “YOUR CURFEW WAS TWELVE, AND HERE IT IS ONE THIRTY,”I scream. They break away and look at me, their faces crimson. “ What do you have to say for yourself missy?” I exclaim . Before I can say anything else, I am cut off by fits of laughter. “Stop laughing.” I yell. “ This is hardly a laughing matter!” “Sweetie, go back to bed. What I do is hardly your concern. Remember I am the adult here.” She Replied. “BUT MOM!” I am then cut off. “No butts, young lady.” Said my mother. In defeat I then turn around, stick up my nose and head to the stairs. |