DIVING TRICKS WITH JACK AND PETER
by Anna
Have you ever wondered about flying? It all started in New York...
It was hot. Too hot. About thirty five degrees celsius to be exact. Even New York can get hot. Impressive, right? Well my cousins were visiting and it was not going well. Peter was sweaty, Jack was sticky, and I was plain bored out of my mind!
My Gramma doesn’t like kids (more importantly, her grandkids) in her house. she booted us outside, threw us our bathing suits, and told us to go to the lake.
Once we arrived at the lake, Jack, Peter, and I decided to jump on the diving board. We ran, jumped, and hit the water. It was freezing! Perfect! We splashed around the lake, spitting out lakewater. We clutched the rungs of the cold, metal ladder, which led us out of the lake, and pulled ourselves out.
Jack was first in line for the board. He did his signature move. He ran across the board like a crazy person, yelling “Chocolate covered bacon,” and smacked the water with his belly. “Tell them my story,” Jack cried, as he pulled himself out of the water, and collapsed on the ground.
I was next. I pulled my arms backwards, and lowered my head. My feet pushed off the edge of the board. In mid-seconds, I opened my eyes to find myself soaring through air. I closed my eyes just as my feet touched the murky water. Then it was darkness. Cold, wet, darkness. I burst up into the light, gasping for air. After rubbing my eyes a few times, I pulled myself up the metal ladder. Shaking off water and carefully stepping on the gravel sidewalk, I joined the line with my cousins.
Peter was last. He swiftly ran up the board. He jumped up and down on the edge of the board, not even stopping to look down. With one final effort, he bounced off the edge of the board, soaring in the air. He landed with a fail, a wave, and a “sploosh!” He swam his way to the ladder and hauled himself out.
“Man, this is getting boring!” Jack yelled, “Let’s have a mud fight!” We jogged over to the shore,and hopped in the cool lakewater. Jack stretched his hand to the bottom of the lake, and scooped up a gooey ball of mud. “Mud fight!” Jack yelled as he chucked the ball of mud. It smacked peter right in the cheek. “You’re on!” Peter exclaimed. He scooped up a mud ball, aimed at Jack, failed. Instead, it hit me, right on my mouth, leaving sand on my tongue. “Muahahaha,” Peter laughed stupidly. Hence, the ancient art of mud chucking began.
After about thirty minutes or so,we were getting bored, and hungry! We decided to go home. Jack grabbed his skateboard, Peter picked up his biked, I pulled up my scooter, and we raced home.
We greeted my Gramma with the friendliest words possible. “ Give us food,” we ranted. “Make it yourself,” she grumbled. So we did. We grabbed lunchmeat, cheese, mustard, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and stuffed all that between the thick slices of amish bread. Then, we grabbed a handful of chips and threw it on our plates. Lastly, we quietly stole part of my Gramma’s stash of chocolate covered pretzels. We snuck outside and wolfed it down.
When we were done, we went back to our lazy, gaming spree. We chugged Diet Cokes and layed on my gramma’s large couch, with all the a.c. pointing at us. Amazingly, my Gramma never found out why half of her chocolate covered pretzels were missing. Or why her On Demand bill was so high. Honestly, it was a pretty good day. Now, I would love to have a long, dramatic ending, but pretzels must be raided.
It was hot. Too hot. About thirty five degrees celsius to be exact. Even New York can get hot. Impressive, right? Well my cousins were visiting and it was not going well. Peter was sweaty, Jack was sticky, and I was plain bored out of my mind!
My Gramma doesn’t like kids (more importantly, her grandkids) in her house. she booted us outside, threw us our bathing suits, and told us to go to the lake.
Once we arrived at the lake, Jack, Peter, and I decided to jump on the diving board. We ran, jumped, and hit the water. It was freezing! Perfect! We splashed around the lake, spitting out lakewater. We clutched the rungs of the cold, metal ladder, which led us out of the lake, and pulled ourselves out.
Jack was first in line for the board. He did his signature move. He ran across the board like a crazy person, yelling “Chocolate covered bacon,” and smacked the water with his belly. “Tell them my story,” Jack cried, as he pulled himself out of the water, and collapsed on the ground.
I was next. I pulled my arms backwards, and lowered my head. My feet pushed off the edge of the board. In mid-seconds, I opened my eyes to find myself soaring through air. I closed my eyes just as my feet touched the murky water. Then it was darkness. Cold, wet, darkness. I burst up into the light, gasping for air. After rubbing my eyes a few times, I pulled myself up the metal ladder. Shaking off water and carefully stepping on the gravel sidewalk, I joined the line with my cousins.
Peter was last. He swiftly ran up the board. He jumped up and down on the edge of the board, not even stopping to look down. With one final effort, he bounced off the edge of the board, soaring in the air. He landed with a fail, a wave, and a “sploosh!” He swam his way to the ladder and hauled himself out.
“Man, this is getting boring!” Jack yelled, “Let’s have a mud fight!” We jogged over to the shore,and hopped in the cool lakewater. Jack stretched his hand to the bottom of the lake, and scooped up a gooey ball of mud. “Mud fight!” Jack yelled as he chucked the ball of mud. It smacked peter right in the cheek. “You’re on!” Peter exclaimed. He scooped up a mud ball, aimed at Jack, failed. Instead, it hit me, right on my mouth, leaving sand on my tongue. “Muahahaha,” Peter laughed stupidly. Hence, the ancient art of mud chucking began.
After about thirty minutes or so,we were getting bored, and hungry! We decided to go home. Jack grabbed his skateboard, Peter picked up his biked, I pulled up my scooter, and we raced home.
We greeted my Gramma with the friendliest words possible. “ Give us food,” we ranted. “Make it yourself,” she grumbled. So we did. We grabbed lunchmeat, cheese, mustard, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and stuffed all that between the thick slices of amish bread. Then, we grabbed a handful of chips and threw it on our plates. Lastly, we quietly stole part of my Gramma’s stash of chocolate covered pretzels. We snuck outside and wolfed it down.
When we were done, we went back to our lazy, gaming spree. We chugged Diet Cokes and layed on my gramma’s large couch, with all the a.c. pointing at us. Amazingly, my Gramma never found out why half of her chocolate covered pretzels were missing. Or why her On Demand bill was so high. Honestly, it was a pretty good day. Now, I would love to have a long, dramatic ending, but pretzels must be raided.
“ Chocolate covered bacon”- Jack Ragonese
“ What? Wait. Why are we doing quotes?” - Peter Hanson
“ Who cares?”- Jack Ragonese
“ Whatever.” - Peter Hanson
About the author
Anna Ruth Diefendorf was born in March 3, 2003 in her hometown Lagrange, Georgia. She lives with her mom, her dad, her sister, and 3 fish named Sushi, Snake Eyes, and Nemo. She now lives in Bangkok, Thailand and visits her insane cousins in the Summer. Jack (11) and Peter (10) both enjoy chocolate covered bacon, WII, and diving boards.
“ This story took place in Cazenovia, New York. I think it was when a heat wave started. My gramma gets really picky when kids are in her house. She thinks we’ll break something. her house is only a 10 minute walk to the lake. The lake is called Caz ( short for Cazenovia) lake. I spend a good quantity of my time at the lake, especially with my cousins.”
“ What? Wait. Why are we doing quotes?” - Peter Hanson
“ Who cares?”- Jack Ragonese
“ Whatever.” - Peter Hanson
About the author
Anna Ruth Diefendorf was born in March 3, 2003 in her hometown Lagrange, Georgia. She lives with her mom, her dad, her sister, and 3 fish named Sushi, Snake Eyes, and Nemo. She now lives in Bangkok, Thailand and visits her insane cousins in the Summer. Jack (11) and Peter (10) both enjoy chocolate covered bacon, WII, and diving boards.
“ This story took place in Cazenovia, New York. I think it was when a heat wave started. My gramma gets really picky when kids are in her house. She thinks we’ll break something. her house is only a 10 minute walk to the lake. The lake is called Caz ( short for Cazenovia) lake. I spend a good quantity of my time at the lake, especially with my cousins.”
