The Summer of '08

“Good Lord, must you be so stupid?

Again, my mouth was getting ahead of me. “What if that had been a real, heavy – duty, limb damaging bomb?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cricket apologized hastily, crawling out of the crater that had been created in the floor, much like his namesake.

“I know you’re sorry,” I said, sighing. “Just try not to do stuff like that any longer. One day you and I will end up in the morgue with tags on our big toes!”

“You’re exaggerating now,” Cricket grumbled, and fumbled with his glasses.

“With someone like Lin? I’m totally NOT exaggerating!”

“Lin? What does Lin have to do with this?”

I groaned. I still hadn’t told him. Seriously, I should just video tape every waking minute of my life for my preposterously large family (and Cricket) to watch.

Just so they can be up to date with my activities.

As I sat in the old room, I finally realized the Beijing summer was getting to me.

Maybe I should get a mask – it’s the new chique around here.

“Come on, let’s go!”


View this story's 1 comments.