Emma and the Firecracker

There are too many words to describe my cousin Emma. She's 9 years-old and already very passionate, sweet, funny, dramatic, and most of all... loving. Today my story is about her.

Emma came bolting down the hall has she always does and ran straight into my arms. We both squeezed tight and then just immediately threw herself away from me.

"Reagan! I have something to tell you!", she said. "A firecracker blew up in my ear!"

I gasped and my eyes grew to the size of baseballs. I inspected her ear and saw the back was black and red from the burns.

My sister, sitting beside me, grabbed my arm and said, "Now Emma, tell Reagan what you were doing when the firecracker exploded."

"Well," Emma said with a huge grin on her face. "Logan told me he was lighting the firecrackers in the ground. Papa John said that was the only way he could play with them - if he lit them in the ground and then ran away. I told Logan that I didn't have to do that because I was better than him. I could light the firecracker and throw it. As I told Logan I was better than him, I raised my arm as far back as I could and threw the black cat. It hit the back of my ear and exploded!"

Emma speaks rather loudly and is so animated about everything. So by this time, she had attracted a crowd. Someone mentioned, "Well, pride comes before the fall, Emma." All of us started chuckling including Emma. She's always going for the laugh factor.

She said the first words out of her mouth after the pop was, "I'm sorry, Logan! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" My Aunt was so proud of her for immediately recognizing her fault.

Emma is such a storyteller. I only wish you could have seen her telling this story herself. She can tell it better than I can write it.