Ok, so, Roman and I were walking around outside my house when he suddenly wrinkled his face and began wiggling his foot around in the air. "I think there's something in my shoe!" Roman complained. I looked down at his notoriously holey, checkered pattern shoes and saw a small cricket head poking out from one of the holes. Roman, angry at the violation of personal space, brought the insect inside to my fathers workshop to torture it. His torture device of choice: silver spray paint. He sprayed the insect again and again, but it refused to die and eventually ended up jumping away to safety. So now my house had an indestructible silver cricket on patrol known forevermore as RoboCricket.


Comments are closed.