The Foster child

"Amberlande wake up!" I heard mrs.richardson yell.

"Hmmm no just one more hour" I mumbled while looking at the alarm clock that was really blurry right now.

"Amberlande if you don't fly down these stairs right now I'm going to let you starve to death" she called back.

"Gee thanks" I muttered, so with that I rolled out of bed knowing that mrs.richardson would not tolerate any of my crap today.

So I flew down the stairs like she asked, no I mean literally flew. I looked down and saw what had been the cause of my ability to fly.

"Stupid rubber duck" I said, kicking the duck away from me.

"Amberlande stop cursing or the kids will repeat" of course, right, wouldn't want her perfect kids saying "bad words."

"Sorry" I muttered, but then my eyes widened "ooohh yum!" I said while trying to grab a pancake from the huge pile of them on the plate with my bare hands.

"No! Amberlande go get ready we have guests coming over and I don't want you scaring them away with the way you look" she said while still trying to swat my hands away but I was not giving up, I must do this for narnia!!

I sighed and stopped after ten minutes of trying, clearly defeated "who the heck comes over to someone's house at 9:00 a.m for breakfast" I asked "like seriously they must be creeps, no one normal does that unless they're freaks!" I replied.

"Amberlande" mrs. Richardson said in a warning tone.

"Sorry" I mumbled again knowing I had not only "cursed" but apparently talked smack about some strange family that were our neighbors. If they were going to do this, whole visit thing in the morning, everyday then I vow to stay in my room till the end of eternity, but this time I said it all in my head because I really did not want to get on mrs.Richardson's bad side.

Next thing you know I see little tiny feet pattering this way.

"Amberlande your hair looks like somebody mopped the floor with the top of your head...ill! You stink"he said while covering his nose.

I scowled "well what do you expect Nathan, you think I'm gonna wake up looking like sleeping beauty, I just woke up give me a break." I said looking down to the foster brother I had. I'm not gonna lie but he's pretty cute, he has big gray eyes and chubby pink rosy cheeks and dirty blonde hair that was combed sideways today. He's 4, which he considers the age of a "big boy." So he basically looks exactly like his mom, except she has red-orange curly hair that looks like a million tiny curls on her head. She also has a fat round belly proving that she indeed is pregnant and is now 7 months.

It's pretty scary when mrs.Richardson gets mad because its like all hell breaks loose and I swear her hair glows fire red and her face scrunches up like a tomato. It would be really comical if she didn't look like she would pounce anybody that dare touch her or even speak. I feel bad for mr.Richardson sometimes...

"Nathan honey, go pick up your toys" mrs.Richardson said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Okay mommy" Nathan mumbled.

I bolted up from my seat with my index finger pointing towards the ceiling as I got an idea "and I shall help!" I yelled with enthusiasm.

"No no no no no no, you missy are going to go upstairs and wear a nice dress, and do a nice hairstyle, I want this family to think we are normal." She said

I scoffed at that, normal? Please she has a 17 year old foster child that is clumsy and awkward, and she calls that normal? I thought.

Next thing you know I'm being pushed up the stairs but even though I'm digging my heels on the ground, she still managed to push me towards the stairs with chubby fingers wrapped around my shoulders.