Stop Snitching

Their cheeks were pink from the cold air, but they were both sweating from their run.

“Lindsay was being a jerk, Dad,” said Grant.

“Oh my gosh!” Lindsay exclaimed. She looked at the man. “He was soooo slow.”

“It’s not my fault. I haven’t worked out in, like, six weeks.”

“So the Missionary Training Center didn’t have a gym?” said the man.

“It does,” said Grant.

“So you just didn’t go?”

“I went. Sometimes, anyway.”

“Dad, if I had slowed down any further, I would have been walking backward,” said Lindsay.

“And she kept making fun of me,” said Grant. “Then she ditched me in the woods and I got lost.”

“It was the main trail that goes back to the house,” said Lindsay. “You could not possibly be lost.”

“It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been back there,” said Grant.

The man rubbed his eyes. “You’re home and clearly not lost. So why are you tattling on your sister?”

“I’m not tattling!”

The man shook his head and opened his laptop. “You’re almost nineteen. You didn’t stay in shape in the MTC. You came home. Your sister kicked your butt in a light two-mile jog, and the first thing you do is run in to tell me that your fourteen-year-old sister is being mean to you. What exactly do you want me to do here?”

Grant rolled his eyes then looked at Lindsay. “Let’s go wrestle. I can still pin you in two seconds.”

“You can’t even catch me,” she said.

“I could catch you under twenty yards.”

“Fat chance.”

Grant looked back at the man. “Tell her to go slower tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should work harder,” the man said.

Grant threw up his arms and turned. “I’m gonna get a shower and work on my Spanish.”

“And maybe when you go back to the mission field, you should keep up on your workouts,” the man called after him.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Grant.

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