“Bang bang bang!” I
shout. I pull my six-shooters out of my
holster and dart around the corner to my older brother’s bedroom. “Take that!”
I say, pointing my pistol at imaginary bad guys.” Jason yells at me, “Get lost, kid!”
“Kid! Who are you calling a kid? I am Calbert, the toughest cowboy in the
Third
grade,” yell back
at him. “Even my name means ‘cowboy,’ so there.”
I move into the kitchen. You never know what kind of outlaw may have
stopped in for a bite. Especially if
they had fresh baked chocolate chip cookies on their minds. “Bang bang bang!” I shoot again, only to find my little brother
staring back at me. He's the real “kid”
around here. Ethan is two years younger
than I am and very annoying.
Ethan just looks at me and
says, “Calbert, Calbert, Calbert, will you play with me?”
“If you'll play cowboys,” I
say.
“No way,” Ethan replies and then hops out of the kitchen.
I sure don’t know what Mom
was thinking when she adopted Ethan along with Jason and me. We have always been brothers, but this was
our chance to get rid of him—wish we could give him back! Actually, I do kind of like him, but I’m not
going tell him that!
“Yay, it's Saturday,” I yell as I run
outside. My teacher likes me, and I have
lots of friends, but there is this one kid that likes to pick on me sometimes.
On Saturdays, I don’t have to worry about Ernie at all, just about having fun.
I love to play “shoot ’em up” games like cowboy
games. My black cowboy hat fits me just
perfectly, except for the flat part on top. Thanks
a lot, Ethan!
