Well anyways it probably has some problems...
__________________________________________________________________________
“Hey Claire, what do you want?” Tim asked randomly.
“Hmmm…I think a hotdog.”
“You’re kidding, right? I can get you almost anything and you want a hot dog?”
“A hotdog,” Claire confirmed.
“Okay.” He shrugged, walking away. If she wanted a hot dog he would get her a hot dog.
He walked on the sidewalk that led into town. He was almost there when he thought of a question to ask Claire. He groaned, turning back around.
“Claire, what kind of dog do you want?” He asked, walking Claire’s backyard.
“A hot one.” A piece of light blond hair fell in front of her face. She puffed up her cheeks, trying to blow it off.
“Right,” Tim mumbled.
When Tim finally reached town he went in search of a hot dog, or how to make one. He got a few ideas on how to make a hot dog, along with finding one.
The pet store had a huge selection of dogs. Tim picked out a golden retriever and a small dog that he didn’t know the breed of.
“How old are you?” The cashier asked Tim.
“Nine, how old are you?”
“Aren’t you a little young to buy your own pets?” She went on, ignoring him.
“No not at all.”
She looked studied him and shrugged. “Okay.”
Next stop was the store. The bell rang as he opened the door, a blast of cool air hitting his face. He wandered around the store, looking for anything that looked like he needed.
There was a pair of pitch black sunglasses. He looked from the golden retriever back to the sunglasses. Picking them up he placed them on the dog so it was wearing them like a human would.
A hot dog.
After a little wandering around the store again, he found what he needed, a heat pack. He looked at the small dog and back at the heat pack.
Smiling, he took it off the shelf and headed towards check out. “Is this all or you getting those dogs, too?” The cashier asked in a bored voice.
“I already got them.”
“Whatever.” He looked at Tim, his items, and his dogs. Shrugging, he quickly scanned the sunglasses and heat pack and bagged them.
Right when Tim was about to hand over the money, somebody came storming over.
“Alright, Alex, give him his stuff so he can leave. Did you not read the sign, no dogs?” The manager barked at Alex and Tim. “It’s right on the front door.”
Alex shoved the bag into Tim’s arms. “I guess I get free stuff.”
“Out!” The manager shouted.
“Hi Claire, I’m back,” Tim said, walking in Claire’s backyard.
“Hi Tim, did you get my hotdog?” She asked, swinging on the blue swing set.
“Sure did!” He nodded towards the golden retriever. “If I put the sunglasses on him it makes him a hot dog.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Or I have this heat pad that I can put on the small dog to make him a hot dog,” he continued, hurrying.
She stopped swinging, staring at him like he was crazy. “Or I could put him in the oven, the microwave works, too,” Tim finished.
“Tim, all I wanted was a hotdog.”
“I did get you a hot dog, two hot dogs.”
“No, a hotdog like the ones you eat.”
He stared at her blankly. “You mean…” he trailed off. “I spent all of my Mom’s money for no reason?”
