As I reached home, I heard a familiar noise. My younger brother, Tim, was crying again. I groaned, Oh no! Not again! My mother had taken up a new hobby this month: planting, and was completely obsessed with it. The whole front lawn was covered with all sorts of plants, and just a few days ago, Tim had gotten a beating from Mum because he plucked her roses to decorate the toilet. What was the problem today?
Reluctantly, I entered the house. Mum screamed at Tim, “NO, I will not get you a superhero backpack! Your current bag is good enough! Do you know how much I have to work just to feed you all since your father left? You are already very lucky that we don’t have to sell the house!” Tim just continued to cry.
I shouted, “I’m home! Not that anybody cares!” Then I stomped upstairs to my room. Mum tried to stop me, but changed her mind when Tim started to throw a fit about all his friends having superhero bags.
In my room, I sat on my bed and sighed. Why did Mum not have enough money to buy Tim a bag but have enough money to buy all sorts of expensive gardening plants? Then, as the “brain” of the family, I tried to think of a way to think of a solution to resolve the conflict.
Just then, I heard Tim scream out what I had been thinking all along, “This is not fair! You get to buy all the plants you want and anything else, but you can’t give me a new bag, or a birthday present!” Then, there was a loud “Whack!” and after that, Tim ran into my room.
I stretched my arms and gave my usual opening line, “What’s up, little bro?” Tim sobbed, “Mum hit me. Hard. On the, on the head!” I gasped and asked, “Does it hurt a lot?” Tim nodded. Then, I asked, “Anyway, what kind of bag do you need?” Tim instantly...