Thursday, November 27, 2008

Droubble: Thanks


“What do you say?”

“Humph.” The little girl crossed her arms and turned away, in an imitation of adult gesture that would have been adorable on a child a year younger, but was becoming more and more of a worry.

Her mother put a firm hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “When people do something nice for us, we say thank you to show that we’re grateful.”

“But mom, I didn’t want that one. I wanted the other kind.”

“Don’t be ungrateful.” Her mother looked up at the uncle. “I’m sorry she’s being this way.”

The girl’s attention had drifted, though. The gifts hadn’t been a total disappointment, and she was already looking at the new, sparklingly wrapped toys, thinking how they would fit in with the rest of the fancy toys in her room. She was so engaged in contemplation of all her beautiful things that she hardly noticed her mother’s lecture about gratitude. She didn’t even notice when the Tyrannosaurus Rex stormed in – at least not until it tore off–

“Rose!” said Mom. “What happened to your doll?”

Rose looked at the battered ragdoll, its arm loose in her one hand, stuffing poking
out the shoulder. “It broke.”

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