Then her mother and father did some things that she didn't really understand, and she usually tried to block them out. Glances were given, words weren't spoken except by Dagmar, and then on top of that there was Mom's wide eyes and Daddy's look at her sister. There was just something about being a grown up that made you shut up and talk with your eyes instead of your mouth. Whatever that disease was, she didn't want to catch it. It was totally screw with her plans of being an unbelievable pitcher and maybe having Valterri under her thumb sometime within the next four years.
"You probably have a migraine." She didn't know what one was exactly, but she'd heard the word from her teacher that one day she claimed light was bothering her and for them to all do whatever they wanted. Just saying it made her seem smarter, and she liked that. It counteracted her mother correcting her about the panda thing. Blastoise was usually as happy as could be when he didn't have to worry about her doing something silly. I don't know any more than you do about all of this. Is your dad always so weird? The small turtle was craning his neck to look about the table.
"Oh, I wanna go! Can I come?" She looked from her mother to Dagmar, and then put her hand over her mouth when she realized how loud her outburst was. "Sorry, Dagmar. But can I come? Please?"