TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GIRL"

 

Good morning! Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week we're writing to the word prompt "Girl".  We have anothe excerpt from "Skit the Scout and Me." When you finished reading head on over to the other authors. You'll find them HERE. 

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“Can you teach me?” I asked, spreading butter on a second piece of bread. 

“Teach you what?”

“How to make bread.” I took a bite of the bread. Best I’d ever eaten.

“Of course, dear. I usually start bread after my morning chores.”

I nodded. Chores. Ugh. What an ugly word! I wondered what my chores would be. It made me nervous. I’d have to measure up ‘cause I’d be living with these people for months and if they didn’t like me, my time here could go real bad.

“Let’s start you off with making your bed and straightening up your room. Did you put all your things away?” Grandma asked.

“Not yet.”

“Well, add that. Then come down and we’ll see what you are most fit to help out with.”

I nodded. Fear spiked in my belly. After breakfast, I ran upstairs and got through my room, making it super neat. I heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Sasha? You done?” came grandma’s voice.

“Yes Ma’am,” I said, opening my door.

She peered in, looking over the reading glasses she wore most of the time.

“Good. Fine job. Come downstairs. Time to introduce you to the chickens,” she said, descending the steep steps slowly.

I followed. Chickens? What did I know about chickens? Nothing. Wild animals already. I shivered for a second, then followed her.

“I’m gonna put you in charge of feeding the chickens every morning and collecting eggs,” Grandma said, handing me a sturdy, if worn, basket. “Put them in here. Be gentle. They break easy.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Grandpa!” she called. “Come get Sasha and take her down to the coop,” she called, then turned to me. “Don’t call me, Ma’am. I’m not your boss. I’m your grandmother. Call me Grandma.”

I gulped and nodded.

“Good. Let’s go. He’ll meet us outside.”

Grandma was slightly overweight, but not much. She moved pretty quick for someone her age carrying an extra fifteen pounds. Grandpa met us in front of the house.

“Come on, girl, let me introduce you to the chickens.”

Introduce me? Were these pets or dumb farm animals? I kept my mouth shut and followed him down the path that lead behind the house to the barn. The chickens were out and about, pecking the ground. I guessed they were looking for food.

“Girls, this is Sasha,” he said. They came closer, but not too close, eyeing me with suspicion.

He pointed to each as he spoke. “Sasha, meet the girls. Mrs. Peepers, Sadie, Girlie, and Pin Feathers. That there is the rooster, Mr. Peepers,” he said pointing to a large scary colorful creature lurking by the barn door.

“You give them names?” 

“Yep. These are layers. We don’t eat ‘em. So we like to know ‘em personally. Over here is their feed. Don’t worry. They’ll cotton to you once they know you’ll be feeding them. Then you won’t be able to keep them away,” he said with a chuckle. 

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. Don't forget to leave a comment.