take turns imagining the diary entry of a teenager, with maxed out drama and agony.
Today, Abby stepped on my toes. I punched her, and got sent to the principal's office. No one cared that my toes are all ingrown, and it really hurt! I guess I have to ask Mom for a pair of steel toed sneakers, because I am not able to control my fists when my toes get stepped on. More later, Dad is calling me to dinner.