“Ouch,” I exclaimed as I walked to the kitchen. “One of the days I’m going to throw every lego in this house into the garbage.” Still mumbling to myself, I made a pot of coffee. Turning to empty the dishwasher I found three wooden blocks in the silverware tray. “I wonder which of the boys did this,” I muttered. On the table were blocks resembling a train. In the refrigerator I found yellow legos in the butter dish. There were other blocks in the egg tray. In a glass on the counter were white legos. I supposed it was milk. At least one of the boys has my imagination I thought. At this point, my anger was subsiding and pride was setting in. Hearing the patter of little feet, I turned. My only daughter, Lucy, stood there with a pout on her face. “Mommy, why you mess my blocks up?”
Allowed 150 words. Used 150.
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