February 27, 2012
By Anonymous

As he pushes the door, stuck one foot in the door, and then stuck his head in I worry that he saw. As he opens his mouth, I am trembling inside.

It was the summer of 2011 and my sister’s friends were over at my house. At my house, we had a lot of golf carts because my dad had a little business selling them. There was some that worked, some that worked but had flat tires, some that were completely broken, and some were ugly, disgusting, and dusty. My dad had always said not to drive them but we always did and never got caught because we would cross the street with them. It was the first time we actually drove around the huge, weird looking block.

My sister’s friends, my sister, my mom, my dad, and I were watching our flat screen T.V. and talking in the living room. My dad finally left to work when I came up with a brilliant idea. It was a bad and brilliant at the same time.

I said, “Let’s drive the golf cart.” We all knew that that was not a good idea but we still agreed on riding the golf carts.

We went outside to get the golf carts we wanted. We may have had a lot, but not enough for all us. So we had to share them. We took turns driving them. I was really good at driving because I had so much practice with them driving them all around my backyard. Sometimes my dad would let my cousin and I drive them. Then we drove out the gate and down the street. My block is not like any ordinary block. My block is not a square. I guess it has a lump on one corner, down my street. We came back up and went back down. We decided to go around the block.

We went around the block a lot of times, taking turns on who ever is driving the golf carts. Then instead of going down the street we went up the street. We were going up the street for a couple of times. When we came up we saw my dad’s red car. Thankfully he was behind another car at the stop sign. But we didn’t have enough time for all of the golf carts to come into the driveway while my dad was behind the other car.

I pulled in after my sister. I don’t know how many more golf carts were coming in after me. I parked the car like it was never moved, pull out the key, and run inside. My mom said “ Your dad’s here?” I tell her yes as I sit down on the couch. Then my dad suddenly walks in.

As he pushes the door, stick one foot in the door, and then sticks his head in I worry that he saw. As he opens his mouth, I am trembling inside. “ Hi kids.” he says. I am hoping that he doesn’t get mad at us for riding the golf carts without his permission. He knew we rode them, he just didn’t care I guess. So we went outside and started riding the golf carts again. When he just let it go by him I knew that the next time I want to ride the golf carts again, I will ask him.

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