I borrowed my dad’s tool set because it looked cooler than the ones we had in class. I turned each screw as hard as I could and swung the door panel a million and half times to make sure it was loose enough to open but tight enough that no baby birds would fall out. I painted it robin egg blue and posted it proudly in our backyard. It didn’t take long for the bluebirds to find it and for me to become fascinated with their homemaking progress. Twigs turned to nests, nests to eggs, eggs to waiting impatiently for squeaky mouths to feed. But it turned out that I didn’t have to wait long because the neighborhood boys came along and threw every last one against a tree for sport.
And that was the day I learned the difference between love and apathy.
*Dialogue without “he/she said”*
You know there’s always that one bag of m&ms that really messes with your brain. So far I have 7 Brown, 8 blue, 6 yellow, 6 red, 13 orange, and 3 green. A pathetic, whopping three. Green is the name of my game and today the odds seem to be conspiring against me. Sigh, at least Jax will have a good 40 out of the deal. Usually he’s whining and fussing about “how could anyone waste like, 99% of a perfectly good bag of candy” but I don’t see the big deal since he always gets to finish it off for me, the little-
“You just ate a green one, you freaking ate the green one, what are you thinking dude, you-”
“Chill Kat, I’m sorry! It’s just one!”
Oh I’m really going to kill him.
“Just one out of 3! That’s a whole third of my portion which was horribly skimpy this time by the way, stupid crap bag.”
“Kat. Really. Look at me. Kitty Kat, I solemnly swear I will get you another bag and I’ll use my tried and true Jedi mind trick to find one with at least 10 greenies, ok?”
“I mean it.”
“Then go prove it!”
“Whatever, murderer of happy m&m eating.”