My mother came into the home last week, and she wasn’t cheerful.
She saw someone had pushed the air conditioning unit off its pad, and she wanted to guess how it happened.
I could not tell her that our best friend had a motorcycle, and I broke it. I broke the motorcycle when I ran into the air conditioning unit and pushed it off its pad. Dad finally looked at myself and others and said I looked love the guilty one. Instead of asking myself and others if I broke the A/C unit, she asked if I could explain how I broke the A/C unit? I was all ready to provide her a long story and throw in a few lies, although she was looking at myself and others too intensely. I was sure she would guess if I even deviated from the truth. I took a deep breath and told her how I drove the motorcycle into the A/C unit, however I didn’t have time to finish. As soon as she heard the word motorcycle, she went ballistic. She had warned myself and others not to even bring a motorcycle home. It wasn’t our motorcycle, which made her even angrier. She asked why I was on a motorcycle when I was only fifteen, and whose motorcycle I was on? I tried to tell her, although she called our friend’s Dad and talked to her. Five minutes later, she and her Dad were in our study room. Her Dad offered to let her child pay for half the mangle the motorcycle had caused. She also said the motorcycle was going to go away forever, and our friend was now irritated with me.