Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Flip-Flops

Flip-Flops






I could not wait to go to the beach! The sun was shining, the seagulls were cawing and the waves were crashing on the shore. I had spent all morning picking out my outfit, my favorite tank top with bright reds and oranges mixed in with the blue flowers, along with my favorite skirt, denim and peace signs. And of course you can’t go to the beach without flip-flops!  I had my cool new ones on with the tiger stripes and hearts on them. I glanced at the time and jumped. I was almost late! I grabbed my shades and my towel and headed to my truck…
I lay on the beach and felt the sun burn into my skin, the sound of boys laughing as girls screamed at the dead fish they had put in the sand, I was so relaxed and so peaceful that even when my ears detected the sound of a car pulling up in the parking lot, I thought nothing of it. Until…  “Juliet! You get in this car right now!” called a high, crazed voice. I closed my eyes tighter and hoped she wouldn’t see me from the car and leave, but then I never counted on my mother coming down into the sand with her totally to big sun hat,  denim overalls that were sliding off so you could see the ‘save the planet, it’s the only one we’ve got!’ t-shirt underneath, her well worn plain blue flip-flops slapped menacingly against the sidewalk. I sunk lower into my towel and willed the sand to cover me but to no luck; I heard mom muttering “kids…never tell…don’t know what her father will say…” I then decided that instead of letting her handpick me from the crowd I silently picked up my towel and moved slowly to the car. And then came the lecture. “No homework done, rooms a pit, cell phone off! I have to say, when your father gets home, oho your in for it madam!”  I wasn’t scared I mean my mom and dad have tried just about every punishment possible; grounding, taking a way my stuff, and so on but it never works, my dads a softy at heart. Mom, she has a different parenting style every week. One week I’ll “learn from my mistakes” the next some other strange technique is in place, so again. I’m not worried.  “I know, I know. I’m grounded for a week right? Taking away my computer? No staying up past ten?” my mother looked at me angrily, which, for my mother, is not hard to do. First of all she is shorter than me and my dad; also she’s gotten this light brown flyaway hair that, underneath her sunhat makes her look like professor sprout in Harry Potter. Then she’s got these wild gray eyes that change color when she’s happy or sad.  Then without a word she turned and yelled to the beach “THIS IS MY DAUGHTER! JULIET DEER! AND SHE SLEPT WITH A TEDDY BEAR UNTIL SHE WAS THRTEEN!!!” she turned back to me and upon seeing my red face, smiled and said “yeah the usual stuff.”

When we got home I stormed off to my  room and slammed the door as hard as I could, causing my pictures to fall to the floor. I growled at them and sat in my desk. My mom had made it pretty clear that she was upping her game, and that if I didn’t shape up, I would be the laughing stock of the school. I paced my room and sat down again. I was eager for revenge. And I knew just how to get it. I need to ask dad where to get some wine and some super glue….

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