STEVE'S RESPONSIBILITY

It all started on a day in August with the sun bearing down on a small suburban town. There sat a small, aged, house in a lot with the off-white paint peeling in the heat. With yellowed shutters plus the aged porch, the house was a doer-up but it was home for the Johnsons.

“How am I supposed to be responsible for my younger brother Carl plus a pet named Spotty Wotty?” asked Steve, talking to his brother.

Steve and Carl sat on their bed in the side bedroom of their newly purchased house. As Steve glanced in the mirror on the dresser, he saw the air conditioner rifle through his brown tawny hair. Steve then looked down at Spotty Wotty, a small, round, fuzzy ball of hair, with deep yellow eyes of glow brightly in the lamp’s bright light.

“Mom said I ‘need to learn how to be responsible’,” said Steve, talking about his mom, Clair.          Carl, not understanding a word his oldest brother just said, played with his toy car.

Steve said, “Mom would make me responsible for my younger brother plus a pet.”

Reluctantly Steve told Carl, “So, there are only three rules to follow, my brother.

“Number one, feed both you and Spotty Wotty,” said Steve as Carl switched from his toy car to his oldest brother’s fingers.

Not noticing Carl, Steve said, “Number two, give you both something to drink, preferably water.”

“And number three, clean up after both of you,” said Steve obnoxiously, looking from Carl to Spotty Wotty.            Defiantly Steve said, “In a million years!” Spotty Wotty, sitting in an oversized hatbox, looked hungrily at the unopened bag of pet food, as did Carl.

“And you’re both going to have to wait for mom to feed you!”