I wrote the last few words of my assignment — “Human resources to tackle economic challenges” — and heaved a sigh of relief. I had been working on it for the past three weeks. I was proud of myself and the effort I had put in to the assignment that was now summed up in 20 pages. I wanted to treat myself to a well-deserved ice-cream from a nearby shop. I told my mother, who was in the kitchen, that I was stepping out. My dad was playing with our dog, Beezus.
On my way home, I realised that I had not kept my project inside my bag but left it lying on the floor. But, confident that it would be safe, I walked home and went straight to my room. Beezus was on my bed curled up between the sheets. But my project wasn’t where I had left it. I assumed that my mother, the responsible one that she is, must have kept it in my bag. But I started panicking when I couldn’t find it there either. I ran helter-skelter and searched every corner of my room. I found the last three pages under the bed, and the rest in Beezus’ mouth as he ran to the living room. The little fellow had eaten my homework!
Everything came crashing down when I realised that the deadline for submission was the next day. I was furious, but how could I vent my frustration on the poor animal? I started weeping. Then my dad’s voice rang out, “Pujaa, wake up! We have to get to the pet shop. You were urging me to buy a dog, right?” I woke up and ran to my cupboard to check on my assignment. It was safe. With a silly smile, I called out to my dad, “Daddy, about that…”
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