Growing Pains

Sam and Mary could hear the booming music as they pulled up outside the house. They could feel the vibrations of the drum beats as they opened the front door.  Mary looked round apprehensively, half expecting old Mr Dawson next door to burst out of his house waving his fists and shouting.

“Jake,” shouted Sam.  “Turn that down.  Now.”  He thumped on Jake’s door then threw it open.  “How many times…….” he yelled but he never finished that sentence.  “Oh my God,” he gasped.  “What on earth have you done?”  He strode into the room and flicked the switch on the amplifier plunging the room into silence.

Jake put down his guitar and his face fell.  “Don’t you like it?” he said.  “You’re always telling me to take more pride in my room and to get rid of all the junk and that’s what I’ve done. I think it looks cool.  So does Brad.”

“I’m not interested in what Brad thinks,” snapped Sam. “He doesn’t have to live here. Who gave you permission to paint your room purple?  Didn’t you think it might be a good idea to ask first?”

“I thought I’d give you a surprise,” said Jake fighting back tears.  “I thought you’d be pleased.  You always say you want me to do more around the place.  I’ve cleared out all my old books and toys and given them to the kids next door.  And next weekend Brad’s going to help me paint an old desk that his Mum said I could have for under the window.  We’re going to do each drawer a different colour.”

“Sam,” said Mary putting her hand on his arm, “we did tell Jake to tidy up.  And it does look a lot cleaner.  All those tatty posters have gone and there’s so much more space.”

“Yes, but purple?” spluttered Sam.  “It’s like a cave in here.  Who in their right mind would choose purple? And imagine what it will be like getting rid of the stuff when we want to repaint.”

“Well, it might not be our first choice but it’s Jake’s room.  I think you’ve made a great job of it, Jake and you must have worked hard all weekend to get it finished.  It’ll be great to have a desk for your homework. She turned to Sam.  “And let’s not worry about when we repaint.  It might not be for years.  Come and have a cup of tea.”

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