“Mommm! I don’t have any shorts!” she says stomping into the bedroom, adding one final stomp as she stands looking at Mom.

“That’s why I asked you to get your things together. I wanted-”

“I know-ah!” she says adding an extra syllable.

“Then why are you yelling-”

“I’m not yelling!” she yells as she marches back to her bedroom and slams the door.

Mom sighs and Dad rolls his eyes.

“I-” mumble mumble “Mommm!”

“Speak clearly.”

“I am-ah,” again with the extra syllable.

“So what do you want?” Mom says.

“Uhhh! Weren’t you listening! I have no socks!”

“Stop being nasty. The whole point is-”

“I’m not being nasty!”

“You’re the one yelling. In order to pack-”

“You’re sooo ruuude Mommm!” Door slams again.

Mom sighs again.

Mumble mumble “wash” mumble comes from the girl’s room.

“I can’t understand anything you’re-”

“Ohmygoshmom! Wash my clothes!”

“Ohmygoshgirl! Listen to what I’m saying! You’re getting clothes together to pack so that I know what to wash for you! Stop being snotty. Kindly, and politely, tell me what needs washing so I can make sure it’s clean for vacation.”

“Uhhh! I know-ah!”


Stubborn

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