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The Bike Mechanic Hat

              I’m walking in my house, quite proud of myself. My nose is sticking in the air as if I were part of the royal family. The reason for my behavior was the bike mechanic cap on my head.

            Now you are probably wondering why I’d be so proud of a hat. Well, the reason is that this hat is not any bike mechanic hat. It’s my father’s bike mechanic hat. My father fixes bikes and today he wasn’t working. My brother wanted the cap, but nope, my dad gave the cap to me.

            So there I am quite impressed with myself. I enter the living room to have breakfast. There is my family chomping away and without me!

            “How dare you eat without me! I have the most important hat, the royal hat”, I point to my head where the hat is. “That means I’m royal and you must wait for me to eat, to play, to sing, to…”

            My mother interrupted me. She didn’t seem too proud of my royal hat, her whole face was red with what I guess was anger.

            “Melissa Thompson, how dare you speak like that! Take that hat off right away; you shall not wear that hat in this house!”

            My mother screamed this so loudly that I thought the whole house would shake and fall down. I knew I’d better take the royal hat off. So I sat on the table to have breakfast, leaving the hat on my lap.

            My brother, Mike, smirked. Ohh was he in trouble for smirking. I had heard he and his friend talking. They had said they would meet each other at the library.

            I knew mom would make him do something with me, so I decided I’d want to take a walk. Then, my brother would have to come with me because I can’t walk around alone. And that meant my brother couldn’t meet up with his friend. That would teach him for smirking at me.

            “Mom, can I go take a walk?” I asked in a small innocent voice.

            “Why of course you could. Mike take your sister for a walk now, she needs some fresh air”.

            “But mom”, complained Mike. My friend and I said we would meet up in the library this morning.”

            “Well, that’s just too bad. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule that”.

            Mike knew he had no chance against mom in a battle, if he talked back it would get ugly. So with a sigh and a grumble my brother led me to the door and I put on my beautiful, royal, mechanic hat. What, mom had said I just couldn’t wear the hat inside. 

            “Mike, can’t you walk a little faster”, I said as we had gotten on the sidewalk.

            “Oh be quite. I didn’t want to come in the first place”, Mike grumbled.

            Since Mike was so slow I ran ahead of him. Before long I was quite ahead of him and I felt the hot sun’s heat blazing on my face. I slowed down not worrying about Mike catching up with me for he was way behind.

            While I was walking on the street, minding my own business, I bumped into an old man. His head was bold with only a few strings of gray hair. But the old man seemed to be in great health and only had a small wooden cane by his side. Near him was a red bike, a red bike which was very much broken.

            “Excuse me, can you help me fix this bike?” The old man asked me.

            Mother had always told me not to talk to strangers. But most of the time I couldn’t stop myself. I just blabbed away.

            “Sorry sir, but I don’t fix bikes”, I replied.

            “Well then why do you have a hat which says Bike Mechanic on your head?” The man asked.

            “Oh, that hat isn’t mine”, I replied.

            “Then you must have stolen it.”

            “No, no, I borrowed it from my dad”, I explained.

            “Oh, so that means you’re the bike mechanic for today”, the old man said with glee.

            This went on for quite awhile. No matter what I said or did, that old man would not believe I wasn’t a bike mechanic.

            Soon, this man was getting on my nerves. It was burning hot and there was that man yelling at me, telling me I had to fix his bike. I was stuck there for so long that Mike was only one block away from me now.

            As if that wasn’t enough, there was an ice cream truck right across the street, and I was sooo hot. But before I could move an inch that old man went after me.

            Finally, I had an idea. I did love the royal hat so much but it was sort of becoming annoying with the guy yelling and all. So I ran to Mike and put the hat on his head. Mike was quite surprised, and had no idea about the old man.

            I ran away and before long that old man was on Mike’s trail, telling him that he had a cap saying he was a bike mechanic. It was a funny scene.

            I ran across the street to the ice cream truck. Before long, I had my ice cream and the warmness calmed down.

            While I stood there eating the ice cream, the old man was shaking his cane at Mike and telling him to fix his red bike. I laughed away, slowly licking my ice cream.

            From then on, neither Mike nor I have ever burrowed the mechanic bike hat from my dad again. And I mean we NEVER EVER burrowed the hat again.

                                        By Sarah Hardtke Age 9