I blink. Once. Twice. What day is it? Monday? Thursday? No. It's Saturday, I tell myself. I run my hand through my long, tangly, raven black hair. You know how black hair is stereyotypically either really long and silky or curly and bouncy? Mine is none of the above. My long black hair is uncontrollably tangly and frizzy. No matter what I put in it, and belive me, I've tried, it still stays tangly and frizzy. Not silky and beautiful, like my sister Erin's. And not curly and fuzzy, like my baby brother Adam's. I sigh and swing my legs over the side of my warm, comfy bed and set my feet down on the cold, wooden floor. It's Saturday, and I plan to make it a great one.
First, I go to the kitchen and open the door leading to the porch. I bring with me the watering can and my sneakers. I carefully water my zuchinni, my tomatoes and my snapdragons. Then I walk down the stairs and out into the woodsy area in our backyard. I find Kibble's and Josie's bowl and take them into the kitchen to fill. Kibble and Josie are our two kittens. They're both wild, and they hunt their own food. But they're adorable and I love them a lot.
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