Every Sunday, I follow my mother to the grocery store. I like going because there are so many interesting people to observe. They say and do funny things.
Today, for example, I hear a woman tell a man that he is not going to get any if he cannot find her favourite chocolate. Well, that is obvious. How can he get some if he doesn’t find it first? I laugh at their silliness, but luckily they do not notice me.
When my mother is done, I follow her to the counter. This is my favourite part, because she will use the coins she gets to buy me ice-cream.
Then comes the part I hate. I never remember until it happens. It always happens.
We look for the car and a big truck hits me.
It doesn’t look like me with all the blood.
Every Sunday, I follow my mother to the grocery store…