“Pepper, listen: don’t jump out the window anymore!”
Mom’s voice was pretty demanding. When she asked me to say “yes” I nodded my head, but crossed my tail over my back legs. You know what that means, right? A way out of your promise.
Promise is a big deal. When you say “yes” that means “yes” unless you cross your fingers if you can. But even if you do that, it is something in your head or down in your chest that bothers you if you don’t keep that promise. When mom says ” I promise” she keeps it. When I say “I promise” I don’t keep it all the time. Then when I break it, I feel bad. Why can’t we do whatever we want all the time? No promise, no guilt.
The window is wide open. Mom is in the kitchen making our Saturday breakfast. I am looking outside the window and longing to join those two rabbits playing in the sun. Should I go? I can be out there for only five minutes and be back inside by the time mom would call me. Nobody would know. Ah, but I would know.
I need to fix this.
I need bacon and eggs.