Big Brother — 6th Annual Holiday Writing Contest Entry

I’m at it again — not reviewing a book, but entering a contest. They’re addictive, OK? I love the prompts, the ability to stretch my brain, the camaraderie with other entrants, and reading all the creative entries. The book review will come soon. Promise. Plus, I’ve been jamming on the first draft of my middle grade novel. Jamming, I tell ya. The excuses are piling up.

Now, on to the contest . . .  the 6th Annual Holiday Contest is put on by Susanna Hill. Please go check out her blog. It is filled with something for everyone — parents, teachers, and writers, alike. This year, we were asked to write a no-more-than-300-words children’s (ages 12 and under) holiday story using The Twelve Days of Christmas as our inspiration. Without further ado, here is my entry:

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BIG BROTHER

Today is Christmas, and I don’t know how things could get much worse. My big brother has been in super-charged, torture-little-brother mode and is set on ruining my life. For example:

On the first day, he started off the countdown to Christmas with a noogie. Not horrible. I can handle it, but, you know.

On the second day, my brother dished out two headlocks . . . in front of my friends. Not cool.

On the third day, he hurled three giant spit balls at the back of my head — splat, splat splat.

On the fourth day, he gave me four wet willies. Just gross.

On the fifth day, he sat on my head five times for no reason, and you know what happens when someone sits on your head.

On the sixth day, my brother gave me six embarrassing nicknames. No, I’m not telling you what they are.

On the seventh day, he pinned me down for seven massive tickle fights, one which made me rush to the bathroom.

On the eighth day, he threatened to tell on me eight times! EIGHT TIMES! Ugh.

On the ninth day, he told me nine lies. Nine lies that I thought were truths, so I told my friends, and they laughed in my face.

On the tenth day, on ten separate occasions, he hid around the house and jumped out at me. I’m still screaming.

On the eleventh day, he gave me eleven wedgies. I have yet to recover. Same with my underwear.

So, today is Christmas. I’m geared up and ready for whatever he is going to give me.  

“Hey, little brother.”

“Hey.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“I love you.” 

“Huh? I mean, I love you too?”

“Let’s go get some pots and pans, and wake up sis.” That’s more like it.

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Whatever holiday you may celebrate, I hope it is filled with community, generosity, love, and belly laughs.