Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2256002-The-Project
by Jacky
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2256002
Flash Fiction
The Project

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“What?” said Dad.

“I want to see if I can figure it out by myself. I think I can!” Jeff said, excitedly looking at the box.

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to help you.”

“No, I think I’m ready!”

“OK...” Dad said, a little hesitantly, “Then I’ll go mow the lawn. Come and get me if you get stuck, OK?”

“I will!

“OK!” Dad said, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

When the lawn was done, he hadn’t heard from Jeff. So he trimmed a few bushes to give him more time. After two hours he figured he could go check-up on the project without seeming pushy.

Walking down the cellar steps, he didn’t hear a sound. Turning the corner, he saw Jeff’s back. “How’s it going?”

“Ah," Jeff said quietly. “I ran into a little problem.”

“Was something missing?” Dad said quickly,

“No, it’s all here. It was with the glue.”

As Dad got to the work area he saw Jeff holding two of the parts together on the table. “Looks right to me, isn’t it sticking well?”

No, it’s working perfectly. It’s super glue. My fingers are stuck to the parts!”

Dad tried not to laugh, “So why didn’t you call me?”

“I did, but you couldn’t hear me.”

“Because of the lawn mower!” Dad said, “I’m sorry! Why didn’t you just come get me?”

“Well, it’s more than that... my left hand is also glued to the table...”

When Mom heard the laughing she went down cellar out of curiosity. They seemed to be scraping a piece of wood off the shop table, there was water, cleaners, and paper towels everywhere, and the trash can was overflowing.

She wisely chose to just slip back upstairs quietly.
© Copyright 2021 Jacky (cliffjack at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2256002-The-Project