...Then The Frog Jumped Into the Lava and Died

I have decided that my blog should have more than four posts, but I have nothing to write about. I suppose that having absolutely nothing to write about isn't exactly the best thing when one wants to write something. Oh well. 

Now I will write about what is happening in my home right now. My mom is trying to figure out how to make BYU-I's next show work effectively with the microphones they have and how to balance everything correctly. My dad just got home and is eating the soup we had for dinner. Now they're talking about pudding. My brothers are downstairs. Ian is playing video games, which is keeping Neil awake. Neil sleeps on the couch now because apparently Ian keeps him awake all night because he's on his phone until he falls asleep and then he snores. I don't know why Neil's complaining; he snores, too. Neil has now come up the stairs. Using a few more mics will add a few more dollars in batteries, but that will be okay because then they can get the right balance. Apparently. Neil is absentmindedly striking a very dramatic pose. And now he's walking around the kitchen. Evidently Ian still finds his game terribly exciting. Neil wishes he didn't so that he could sleep. I still think he should sleep in his own bed, not the couch. 

We have eight cattle. And two of them are pregnant. 

By cattle I mean more than one cat, not more than one cow. 

This whole blog thing is kind of a bad idea. I have no idea what to write and honestly am still failing to see the point. 

I will now tell the true story of the princess and the frog, as made up by ten-year-olds Lucy Hacking and myself.

'Once upon a time, Cinderella was walking through the forest and she saw a frog. She remembered the fairy tale the Princess and the frog and decided to see if it was true. So she tried to grab the frog. It jumped into a pond. She looked over at the pond to see the frog and there was a water fairy above the pond. Cinderella asked, “Fairy, do you know how I can catch that frog?” 

The fairy said, “Jump into unto the pond, blink 3 times, then snap your fingers.”   

So Cinderella jumped into the pond, blinked 3 times and snapped her fingers. The frog swam over her head and she almost caught it, but when she opened her hand, Tinker bell was in her palm. “CAREFUL! You crushed my wing!” Tinker bell screamed at her. 

“Well, sorry,” Cinderella said, “but I was trying to catch that frog.”

 “Well, he headed over to the volcanoes.”

So Cinderella got out of the pond and her hair was DRIPPING wet. The water got into her eyes and it stung really badly, but she couldn’t get it out. She walked home. When her stepmother saw her she said, “Go to your room. NOW!” So Cinderella went to her room, dried off her face, and jumped out the window. Luckily she had a parachute. Cinderella landed into some mud. She brushed the mud off her skirt and said, “I better go to the volcano, since that’s where the frog is.”

So Cinderella walked over to the volcano, where she saw the frog meditating. “Come here, frog!” she yelled, running after him. “NO!” the frog said. Then the frog jumped into the lava and died.

THE END

P.s. the moral of the story is don’t EVER trust the princess and the frog.'

Keep in mind, we were in fourth grade. We thought of it on the fifteen-minute bus ride home. These sentences are very choppy because it was just a pass along story we were telling when we were ten, and riding the bus, and in fourth grade, and bored. I typed it up as soon as I got home so I would get the wording exactly the same. 

It (our story) kind of reminds me of my friend Mason's story about the little red hen, told from the point of view of the bread. His was a bit darker, though. His main character was eaten alive instead of watching what they thought could have been their true love jumping into lava just to get away from them. Well, actually, when put that way, ours sounds a bit worse. Trust me, it isn't. It also reminds me of a story my friend Kelly wrote (my friends are all awesome and lots of them write awesome stories. You may have noticed.) about a t-shirt/chicken. It goes like this:

'Once upon a time, there was a t-shirt. It was a very nice t-shirt and had a nice owner that wore it all the time. However, it was dissatisfied with its existence as a t-shirt and decided it wanted to be a chicken instead. One day it sneaked out of the drawer and went to talk to the randomagic woodland toad fairy that it had never met, but had heard of from one of its t-shirt friends. It said, "Randomagic woodland toad fairy, I am dissatisfied with my existence as a t-shirt and have decided that I want to be a chicken instead!" The randomagic woodland toad fairy said, "okay." and turned the t-shirt into a chicken. Then she ate the very well roasted chicken. "Mmmm, delicious. My compliments to the chef," she said, chortling to herself. Then she hopped away.

The End.
 
The moral of this story is to never talk to strangers and to be happy with who and what you are. Because you never know what might happen.'
  
I don't think any of those stories are as awesome as my Aunt Amelia's story Little Red Stinky Feet, though (my apologies to Kelly and Mason and Lucy). I don't actually know where our copy of Little Red Stinky Feet is, though, so I won't put it on here just yet. Sorry. I probably will sometime, though, because it is well fantabulous. I don't think it has a moral, though. I'm okay with that. The moral would be rather ridiculous, as it is a ridiculous story. Ridiculously awesome!

I should probably go... do something. Eat a cookie or something like that. Whatever. 

I've figured out why I have a blog! It's to work on my voice! 

Not my singing voice. A blog won't help that (and it would be a bit of a hopeless endeavor, anyway). I have a blog to express myself better in writing... because I definitely need to work on that... 

Yes, that's it! That's why I have a blog. Yep. Definitely. 

Good night.