Brock had a temper, he was downright mean. If he didn’t get his way, he would kick and he would scream. He would push and shove and
yell, ‘Give me that!”. If he didn’t get his way, he would throw a temper tantrum in three seconds flat. He would scrunch up his eyes and his face would get red, and soon you would see steam coming out of the ears on his head.
He would open his mouth and let out a bellow. No one wanted to be around
such a fiery-tempered fellow.
His sister, Brenda, was the kindness queen. The total opposite of Brock, always nice and never mean. She was good to her friends and always helpful to her teachers. Sometimes, on Sundays, she would take baked goods to their
preacher. Even though she loved him, sometimes Brock was really a pest. Once in
a while, his sourpuss attitude would put her friendships to the test.
They would get so tired of him. For crying out loud, would he
give it a rest? She would just shrug her shoulders and take it in stride. Together they would smile and roll their eyes, then decide where to play, indoors or outside.
One day at recess Brock was being so mean, stomping and snorting and causing a scene. Brenda went over to put her own words to the test.
“Brock Edward Bean, stop being so mean! It’s not all about you, you won’t always get your way. If you keep this up, you may get a black eye someday. Everyone is tired of your stomping and snorting and causing a scene.
Eventually, you’ll wind up in the bad temper time machine!” she yelled at him.
“Bad temper time machine?! What is that, what do you mean?!” he shot back.
“Don’t kid yourself because it happened to me. I used to get red in the face and have a temper streak. But one night I was in my closet, putting on my pajamas. All of a sudden I looked up and my heart went bananas. I wasn’t in my closet anymore. I was in a cabin, standing on the hardwood floor. Then I got a whooping with a switch before I went out the door. I ran and I ran, I screamed and
I cried. "Then all of a sudden in our house I
was back inside.”
“That could never happen, it will never happen to me.” he shot back.
“Well, when we go home tonight you’ll have to wait and see,” she said, turning around and walking away.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish