"No! I am not going to apologize!" He says at the top of his voice.
"Why not!" She argues back as she holds the precious little thing in her hands.
"That's what it’s made for," he says. Then his hand lunges out trying to snatch the little thing from her hands. Her quick reflexes stifle his attempt.
"Stop calling him it," she demands. "His name is Squish." She adds, narrowing her eyes into his, frustrated with her brother's immature attitude.
"That's what, it's, made for." He purposely uses the word his sister demands that he stop saying. Then he annoyingly yells the name of the little thing, "SQUISH! SQUISH! SQUISH!" Suddenly he snatches it from her hands and squeezes Squish in front of her face. Looking directly into her eyes he says, “and, I am not going to apologize!"
Her eyes narrow, her face scrunches and turns red with rage, suddenly her hands grab her brother's head and she squishes until he yells in pain and drops the little thing. She lets go and looks directly into his teared-up eyes and says, "and, I am not going to apologize!" Then she picks up Squish and walks away.
This story reminds me of childhood siblings always passionately arguing about something. I remember the pain caused by my older sister cracking me a good one because I threw a dirt-clod at her friend. This story was developed while on vacation around a real Squish ball.
© 2018 T Ansel