176 - Scars
Scars
George had a large pout on her face, sitting on the edge of the sink with her leg pants pulled up, and she looked up at her Dad. She was not a happy camper, “It's not fair.” she grumbled.
“What's not fair honey?”
“That stupid boy. I'm gonna kick him right in his face.” the little girl with the blonde pigtails muttered, knowing she was going to get in trouble.
Her father frowned, “Georgia Lass, what did I tell you about that sort of language?”
“But I didn't even say any bad words.” she protested and got a bit of a glare in response. She pouted again, “Sorry..” she muttered barely loud enough for him to hear.
Her father went back to attending to her knee, and she winced, and growled a bit when he poured the alcohol on the wound. “What were you doing anyways?”
“I wasn't doing anything to him, Dad. He just decided to run me over.” Her lips pursed, obviously more annoyed then actually hurt, despite that nearly all the skin was gone from her knees.
“Well when I find him, I'm going to have a talk with him.”
George, even at 7 years old, rolled her eyes at him.”Yelling at him or talking to him isn't gonna work, dad.”
He looked at her and shook his head, “Violence isn't going to solve anything, George. Just look at your knees. You're going to have scars.”
She promptly stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him. As much as she loved her dad, sometimes he was just a fuddy duddy. She hadn't even cried when she'd been run over by the large bike.
Finally all the blood was cleaned up, and he helped her down onto her feet. She wobbled slightly, and he told her to go lie down. She got about to the couch when she snuck out the side door and headed off down the road.
Messed up knees or no, the next day, little Harry came to school missing two front teeth, and had a black eye.
George had a large pout on her face, sitting on the edge of the sink with her leg pants pulled up, and she looked up at her Dad. She was not a happy camper, “It's not fair.” she grumbled.
“What's not fair honey?”
“That stupid boy. I'm gonna kick him right in his face.” the little girl with the blonde pigtails muttered, knowing she was going to get in trouble.
Her father frowned, “Georgia Lass, what did I tell you about that sort of language?”
“But I didn't even say any bad words.” she protested and got a bit of a glare in response. She pouted again, “Sorry..” she muttered barely loud enough for him to hear.
Her father went back to attending to her knee, and she winced, and growled a bit when he poured the alcohol on the wound. “What were you doing anyways?”
“I wasn't doing anything to him, Dad. He just decided to run me over.” Her lips pursed, obviously more annoyed then actually hurt, despite that nearly all the skin was gone from her knees.
“Well when I find him, I'm going to have a talk with him.”
George, even at 7 years old, rolled her eyes at him.”Yelling at him or talking to him isn't gonna work, dad.”
He looked at her and shook his head, “Violence isn't going to solve anything, George. Just look at your knees. You're going to have scars.”
She promptly stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him. As much as she loved her dad, sometimes he was just a fuddy duddy. She hadn't even cried when she'd been run over by the large bike.
Finally all the blood was cleaned up, and he helped her down onto her feet. She wobbled slightly, and he told her to go lie down. She got about to the couch when she snuck out the side door and headed off down the road.
Messed up knees or no, the next day, little Harry came to school missing two front teeth, and had a black eye.