Without the color, I don’t know how to proceed. I’m lost in shades of gray.
And why is an orange the only fruit that has to share its name with its color? A banana isn’t called yellow. It’s not fair. If I were an orange, I would complain.
You won’t get what you want, Rory Swenson, until you see what you need.
There’s a fight going on inside of everyone between a good wolf and a bad wolf, but the one you feed is the one who wins.
If I can’t figure out why I’m here, then I’m just taking up space.
Men are wimps. Why do you think women have the babies?
Mom said it’s too violent for me. I would argue, but after being terrified by a SpongeBob balloon, I’m pretty sure she’s right.
When I was little, I used to run out into the rain and let the water run all over me. Then one day I saw lightning split a tree nearly in half. That pretty much took the joy out of prancing around in thunderstorms.
When the waitress comes, Leo orders pancakes with chocolate chips and strawberries, an omelet with sausage and peppers, French toast with powdered sugar and pecans, hot chocolate with whipped cream, orange juice, home fries, regular fries with gravy, and a bowl of chocolate pudding.
Lean back, tighten abs, keep arms locked, look for a place to land my hands.
Admit it, if you suddenly had magical powers, you would have turned that leftover meat loaf into pizza, too.
Most kids might not think that riding the bus to school is all that awesomesauce, but that’s only until your mom makes you go with her every morning and then lectures you about not using your magical powers the whole way to school and then picks you up and lectures you the whole way home.
Life is short but it is wide.
She shakes her head. “No. Other people look. You see. Looking isn’t the same as seeing.” And with that completely bizarre statement, she gets up and leaves. My mouth falls open a little at the abruptness of it all.
Sounds painful, but the lady on the bottle is smiling.
I reach under Mongo, and my hand lands on something squishy. I grab hold of it, and pull out an orange bunny Peep from a long ago Easter. Even I wouldn’t eat it now. The scary thing is, it still looks perfectly fine. Dusty, but fine. I think Dr. Grady was wrong. At the end of the world will be bacteria, cockroaches, and Peeps.
What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, hands on her hips. Her lips quiver a bit as she speaks, though, and I get the distinct impression she’s trying not to laugh. I sigh, used to being falsely accused of wrongdoing by my naturally suspicious parents. “I fell.” I attempt to shrug my shoulders, but they don’t move. “And now I’m stuck,” I add.
The jewel in the crown.
The thing already looks like its best days were decades ago.
She closes her eyes. “I can’t believe he peed in that potty.