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This is an excerpt from a biography project I worked on in twelfth grade. I will update it one of these days ...
"I have an idea," begins my dad at 7:30 on a Wednesday evening. His hands are busy scraping what's left of dinner into the sink. My mom and I are still clearing the table.
"I know you don't have much time, but I think you should just skim the headlines of the newspaper each day. It would only take thirty seconds, and it would keep you informed."
"I am informed!" I retort, tucking the orange juice into the refrigerator and removing the diet root beer.
"Lil," my mom stops in the middle of her path to the sink, "how much of that have you had today?"
"It's my second half glass, that's all!"
"Okay, I just don't want you drinking too much aspritin."
"Aspartame. I know, but really, I honestly don't drink that much." I sip at the glass.
"Are you done clearing the table?" asks my dad after a pause."
"Uh huh." I peer around him, to see what's on the kitchen TV.
"How about skimming the newspaper?"
"No. I'm informed. I know stuff."
"Like what Britney Spears's new song is?" My dad challenges, smiling but serious.
"Um, no. Actually I don't know that," I laugh. "I know that giraffes don't have vocal chords, though."
"Where'd you learn that," questions my mom.
"Off a bottle cap." I pour myself another half glass of soda. My mom gives me a pointed look.
"What was in the bottle?" returns my dad.
"Diet Snapple…with aspartame."
Four years later, I no longer drink diet soda, and I read The New York Times online almost every day. I guess people can change. |
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