It'll Be Fun

It's not fair! Emmi thought furiously as she stormed up the stairs to her bedroom. They can't do this to me! They can't!

"Em-il-ee!" Her mother's voice floated up the staircase after her. "Emily Alison Carlo, come down here at once!"

And her father's deep baritone, "Em, we're talking to you. Come back here and communicate with us like an intelligent girl."

Emmi ignored them and flung herself down on her bed, slamming the door behind her. The Periodic Table Of Elements above her desk came crashing down as she did so, but she didn't bother to pick it up. Why her? How could her parents possibly do this to her?

Emmi knew what babies were. They were red, fragile, snively, crying, and dirty. They were drooly, stinky, and when they got older, they were bothersome and whiny. They were breakers of silence, wreckers of models, interrupters of peace. Who would want one of those around? Not her, that was for sure.

"Emily Alison Carlo." Her father appeared in the doorway, followed by her mother, who was sniffling and wiping her eyes with a tissue. Without being invited, they marched in and sat themselves down on the edge of her bed. Turning her face to the wall, Emmi said quietly, "I don't want a baby."

"But Emmi, honey, just think." Mrs. Carlo reached down and stroked her daughter's hair. "It will be fun. A little brother or sister. You could help take care of it, and teach it things, and when it got older, it could play with you..."

"Another Emily!" Mr. Carlo put a hand to his forehead in mock horror. "Love, you'd have someone to build models with, play piano with--I promise, it won't be so bad."

Emmi sat up slowly. "Will you love this baby more than me?"

"Of course not!" Both her parents exclaimed together. Her father added, "We'll love him or her just as much, but in a different way. You'll always be our Emily, and the baby will be our--our---whatever we name it. So don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Emmi sighed. "I guess it's coming. But I don't have to like it."

The End

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