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Donald Duck and Jacky the Neutered Cat

Areida · 2006-02-25T04:21:27Z

My younger sister, penname Addie Rivers, is holding a contest on writing.com, and this is my entry. The requirements specified 500-1000 words, and the story had to incorporate the line "I still didn't see what Donald Duck had to do with this." If you have an account on writing.com, I would be vurry grateful if you'd look her up and enter a little something. I have seven siblings. Needless to say, things at my house are... interesting . And because I am the second of these eight children, and the oldest girl, I have certain responsibilities the younger kids don’t. For instance, each morning, one of my jobs is to help the three younger girls get breakfast. Which is why it is no surprise I found myself once again debating with a seven-year old, a five-year old, and a three-year old which cereal they would partake of this morning. “Mom says Cheerios,” I told them firmly, holding the yellow box with the “heart healthy” bowl in one hand. Seven-year old Liesel shook her head. “No she didn’t.” “Yes she did.” Five-year old Grace was in total agreement with Liesel. “No, Hannah, Mommy said we could pick this time.” “Mom!” I called from the kitchen to her upstairs bedroom. “Can the girls pick their own cereal today?” “No,” was the shout I received in return, and I smirked at the three little girls gathered around my feet, blonde hair still hanging in tangles around their shoulders since Mom and I hadn’t done their hair yet. “See? Okay, so Cheerios. Go sit; I’ll pour.” Liesel groaned, which of course meant Gracie was going to follow suit, and even three-year old Sarah grumbled a little on the way to the table. The three clambered into chairs as the cereal clinked into four bowls and milk sloshed over the cereal. “Big bites, no stalling, we’re already running late,” I said as I set the bowls in front of my sisters and handed them each a spoon. Baby Sarah took me quite seriously. She heaped Cheerios onto her spoon, shoved them into her mouth, and before I could clarify, milk was running down her chin. Gracie was giggling too hard to eat, but Liesel looked supremely unconcerned at the childish behavior of her sisters as she took bites of a more ladylike proportion. “Hannah,” Liesel said primly. “Yes?” I finished wiping Sarah’s chin and had just lifted my spoon to take my first bite. “We need juice.” Grace’s mouth dropped open, as though I’d cheated her by forgetting her breakfast beverage, and Sarah followed their example by nodding so hard some of her blonde hair fell into her bowl. I picked it out as I stood and poured us all orange juice, though mine was the only one in a glass cup. “Eat,” I ordered Grace, who had been playing with her spoon, which was still completely untouched by milk or Cheerios. She took a grudging bite and wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t like Cheerios, Hannah.” “Since when?” “Since today. Can I have another cereal?” “No.” I took a large bite of my cereal and had almost swallowed when Liesel decided she wanted to sip straight from her bowl. “Put it down, Liesie.” She glared at me, but did as I asked and continued eating, though much more slowly than she had been before. “Liesel, eat faster. Gracie, you need to eat more than three Cheerios in one bite. Sarah, what…” I trailed off, and had to bite my tongue not to laugh at the expression on my baby sister’s face. Her spoon was sticking straight out of her mouth, horizontal to the table, and her eyes were nearly crossed as she tried to focus on the shiny silver end of the utensil. “Take the spoon out of your mouth,” I said sternly. She did so, and dropped it into her bowl, splashing milk over the sides and onto the table. “Nannah,” she said, looking up at me. “Yes, Sarah.” I was leaning across the table for a paper towel to clean up her mess. “Jacky’s gonna have kitties.” I nearly sprayed the occupants of the table with milk and had to fight to swallow my bite. “No, sweetie, Jacky can’t have kittens,” I managed to say. Jacky was our cat, an old, somewhat mean, white Persian who had a knack for getting underfoot at all the wrong times. He was also neutered. “Not today,” Sarah told me, shaking her head. “Another day.” “Jacky’s a boy. He can’t have kittens.” “Not today,” Sarah repeated patiently. “But maybe another day.” “Donald Duck had a kitten one time,” Liesel jumped in. “What?” “One time Donald had a kitty,” she repeated. “It looked like Jacky, but it was a lot nicer and didn’t shed like Jacky does a lot.” “Hannah, is Jacky really going to have babies?” Gracie asked, looking as though Christmas had come early. “No, he’s not going to—“ “But Donald had one!” Sarah said, as though this was the most logical conclusion one could make. “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, not even realizing that cereal was growing soggy as four spoons lay forgotten in the milk. “If Donald Duck gets kittens, then Jacky should have them too,” Liesel said. “Otherwise that’s not fair.” “Jacky’s a boy ,” I reminded them. I still didn’t see what Donald Duck had to do with this. “But can’t Jacky have kittens?” Gracie was starting to look worried that Jacky would be denied the joys of motherhood. “Jacky is not going to have kittens because he. Is. A. BOY! Now stop asking and finish your cereal!” “Hannah, stop yelling at your sisters,” my mother called from upstairs, but none of us seemed to hear her. “Not today,” Sarah said calmly as she picked up her spoon and held it in her little fist. “Another day.” “Yeah,” Gracie agreed, going back to her breakfast. “Jacky will have them another day.” “Just like Donald,” Liesel said as she too resumed her meal. I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “I give up.” “It’s okay, Nannah,” Sarah said, her mouth full. “Jacky will let you pet the kittens if you’re good.” I lifted my head and looked at each of my three sisters, a little smile spreading over my lips. “You’re right,” I said, and we finished our Cheerios in peace.

Areida

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Points 17580

Reviews 798

Wed Mar 08, 2006 2:55 am

Areida says... · Wed Mar 08, 2006 2:55 am

Quirky contemporary writing, huh? Well, I guess that's a good thing because I'm doing a March NoWriMo on writing.com and I'm doing a contemporary novel about two families and I think a tweaked version of this scene will appear in it.

Woot!

Again, thanks to all those who took the time to read and review. I really appreciate you all.

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To have more, you have to become more. Don't wish it was easier - wish you were better. For things to change, you have to change, and for things to get better, you have to get better.
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Donald Duck and Jacky the Neutered Cat

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