Happy Grandparent’s Day

• Ashvin Bala, Grade 4
• Short Story
• 2020

It was Monday. The rays of sun rampantly ingurgitated the land, carelessly. It was just blank blue sky waiting out there; mostly bright. That was the reason I was outside, sipping my banana sundae, flushed down with coke. I was only eight years old, in my childhood. Air creeped steadily on and into my palm. I stared intensely at my Grandpa, quite odd in general. This time, he was making a potato sandwich, pelted with expired cheese which displayed a snot green colour.
My Grandma stated to me and my Grandpa that she wanted us to engross the air. In her version, drifting around nonstop. Suddenly, mist wrapped its fingers around my toes. The sun got dimmer and dimmer, until there was a cloudy grey sky. It stood out plain in the background, overall. Then, as I forecasted, it started raining cats and dogs, which stunk! The continuous rain melted the ice cream cake. That was the main celebration because the cake was iced: ‘Happy Grandparent’s Day’. We packed up the flexible table, and headed towards the door, off the balcony. That wasn’t ‘officially’ the end of this special day, though.
All of us three arrived at my parents’ house. We celebrated with balloons. I sometimes even wonder if they knew we were coming home! The fun lasted for a couple of hours. I said goodbye to my grandparents. Also I said:
‘HAPPY GRANDPARENTS’ DAY!’