Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
You're Not The Boss Of MeMommy and daddy went away for the afternoon, and they left me in charge. I like being in charge. It's lots of fun. Bobby doesn't like it very much because he thinks he should be in charge, but he doesn't know as much as I do. He doesn't know how to run the microwave, or call 9-1-1. Most of the time he doesn't even use the potty when he's supposed to. That's why mommy and daddy put me in charge.
"I wanna go outside and play."
"It's raining, Bobby," I said.
"I like rain."
"If you go outside you'll get muddy, and then when you come back in you'll make a mess everywhere."
"I'll clean it up."
I know he won't. He'll come back in and dump his muddy stuff everywhere and go play with his toys until mommy and daddy get home, and then I'll get in trouble because the house is a mess.
"No you won't."
"Why don't you go play with your toys?"
"Don't want to."
"Well you can't go outside."
He stomped his foot and said, "You're not the boss of me."
"Am too," I said.
"You're just a fat poopoo head."
I put my hands on my hips like mommy does and tried to do a scolding voice like mommy's. "You need to go to your room, young man," I said.
"Can't make me," he said, and ran outside without even putting his rain jacket or boots on.
He's right - I can't make him do anything. Bobby talks and thinks like a five year old, but he's seventeen years old and weighs a hundred and eighty pounds. I can't make him do anything.
I decided I don't like being in charge, and I can't wait until mommy and daddy get home - I don't like being in charge even if I can use the microwave and dial 9-1-1.
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