My Stuffed Frogs When I was ten years old, I had issues with my little brother. I still have problems with him now, but not like back then. He would always annoy me, and I did not do well holding back my anger towards him, and for that, I got in trouble with my parents almost every day. This cycle went on for a few months. One day, I was so fed up with his noises that he made, that I made a gun shape with my fingers and pretended to shoot him, without realizing that my mom and stepdad were directly behind me.
They took every single thing from my room except for my bed, my desk full of markers, and the five stuffed frogs in the closet that my grandpa bought me when I was five. By that age I was, “too old” for stuffed animals, so I just left the frogs there in my closet. However, after about a week of staring at the wall all day, (except for when I came out to eat), I started to lose my mind without anything to do, so I opened up my closet and grabbed the frogs.
I didn’t really know what to do with them, until I started talking to them. For about 3 months those frogs were my best friends. Even after I earned my belongings back, and could play with my video games again, I still just talked to the frogs. I named the smallest one Grolmo, and another one was named Horus. They earned a special place in my heart, for being there for me in my time of need. …show more content…
I realized how boring being grounded felt, especially with his short attention span. I decided to have my mom drive me over to his house, so I could give him three of my frogs. He had so much anger built up, that the frogs didn’t last a week. He tore them to pieces and flushed their shreds down the toilet. I suppose he didn’t fully understand the potential that those frogs had. Luckily I kept my favorite frogs, Horus and Grolmo, so I wasn’t devastated when I found