By Pocket
My original orange ball died today. Daddy was throwing it to me. It was almost totally split down the middle, one side had all the orange covering gone, the other only had a small strip of orange going across it, making it look like an old man attempting to pull off a comb over on top of his shrunken skull. Daddy threw it, it skittered across the floor, no longer even bouncing. I picked it up, rushed back to Daddy, and he went to take it, but I held on, and pop, it broke in two. And there wasn’t a danm thing in there. Great! Then Daddy walked over to the trash, opened it, and dropped it, leaving my best friend, my orange ball, in the trash. I followed Daddy back to the living room. He sat on the floor. I looked up at him. “Where’s my orange ball?” I asked and began to look all over for it. I’m not sure if I’m going to find it. I think something happened to it. Oh well, let’s nap.
My original orange ball died today. Daddy was throwing it to me. It was almost totally split down the middle, one side had all the orange covering gone, the other only had a small strip of orange going across it, making it look like an old man attempting to pull off a comb over on top of his shrunken skull. Daddy threw it, it skittered across the floor, no longer even bouncing. I picked it up, rushed back to Daddy, and he went to take it, but I held on, and pop, it broke in two. And there wasn’t a danm thing in there. Great! Then Daddy walked over to the trash, opened it, and dropped it, leaving my best friend, my orange ball, in the trash. I followed Daddy back to the living room. He sat on the floor. I looked up at him. “Where’s my orange ball?” I asked and began to look all over for it. I’m not sure if I’m going to find it. I think something happened to it. Oh well, let’s nap.
