Tab

Tab

Tab hopped on the counter. He liked to check things out early, his family would be getting up soon. Mom had been out late last night. She was at a “meeting” whatever that was. It didn’t make her happy, she came in and talked to Dad in a cranky voice. Tab tried to help her by patting her with his sides but she barely noticed. He wanted to make sure that when she woke up today the house was all safe, it would make her happier.

Mom took great pride in neatness. She worked at the counter a lot so when things were on the counter that shouldn’t be, like papers or Dad’s tools, she always took them away. Today the counter only had one thing on it that wasn’t supposed to be there. Mom’s purse. Tab looked at it. Maybe he could put it away for her to make her happy.

He tried picking it up, it weighed a ton! That wasn’t going to happen. But really he only needed to get it off the counter. Right? He pushed it tentatively with his head. It slid! He pushed harder, it went flying off, bouncing sideways and spewing all its contents across the floor. Tab watched as wallet, loose change, crumpled papers and sunglasses, among other things, careened out. One was a medicine bottle, which also popped open scattering little white pills all over. Tab hopped down and batted at a few sending them skittering across the tile, under the table and the fridge. It was fun!

Suddenly Mom was at the kitchen door. “Tab!” she yelled. He stopped, he knew she was thanking him for clearing the counter for her. ‘No thanks needed Mom,’ he thought, happily, as he went into the living room for a nice morning nap.