It was a sunny fall day when I arrived at my grandparents’ white house. Right when I arrived there she made me go take a nap, but I didn’t want to because I wasn’t tired. Instead I tricked her and acted like I was exhausted by saying, “Ahh I’m so tired.” After she left, I bounced out of bed and started to play with my neat green toys. I tried not too being too loud while I played, but I heard this nasty growl. Starving, I opened the old door and snuck down the stairs. I slithered down the squeaky stairs as slowly as possible hoping that no one heard me thinking, ‘Of course these stairs are a million years old.’ I open the second ragged door and looked to see if anyone was out there. There wasn’t, so I cautiously tippy-toed out there and stealthy moved towards the sparkly clean fridge. I opened the fridge to only see a bowl of oily butter. “Mmm ice cream!” I quietly whispered.

I heard a door slam like a bomb going off in war, and I dashed off so fast that anyone could see dust fly out of the velvet carpet. My tiny feet glided up the giant stairs at a million miles per hour with a gigantic bowl of rich butter. I heard Grandma say, “Why did I leave the fridge open?” She hobbled up the rigged stairs, so I quickly hid the yellow butter under the bed and jumped back in bed. She opened the door, beamed me down with her eyes, then asked me, “Are you awake?” I didn’t say anything, so she hobbled back down stairs. 

After a couple of minutes, I ripped the covers off and searched for the butter or what I thought was ice cream. I opened the hard lid to find this yellow cream of goodness. I liked how this tasted, so I wrecked about half the bowl like it was Thanksgiving then set it down. My hands were all juicy and slimy, so I lay there for a couple minutes with a chubby stomach full of butter. Suddenly, I felt this horrific sharp pain in my stomach because I ate the largest amount of butter so quickly. After ten minutes of lying with the most aching pain, I jumped out of bed and decided that I had to put the moist butter back before Grandma noticed. I picked the enormous bowl up and headed back down the squeaky stairs. I looked to see if anyone was down stairs, and I didn’t see anything; so I burst to the fridge. 

Once the gray fridge was opened, I heard Grandma come out of the stinky bathroom. I panicked and dropped the butter, and it spilled everywhere because it had been sitting out so long that it was basically liquid. I hustled as fast as I could out of the kitchen and hid on the creepy basement steps. Before I knew it, grouchy Grandma yelled, “Gavin, you better get your butt down here and clean this mess right now. You better get down her right now!” While Grandma’s voice darkened, I was hiding on the basement steps that look like they’re leading to the devil’s dungeon, and Grandma was screaming like an enraged horse. I was thinking, ‘This dungeon is about to suck me in.’ Grandma began to search for me and yelled my name. I was shaking like a schoolgirl on the steps.  Once I looked around, I noticed mousetraps surround me and frightened me even more.

Grandma inched in to the warm room, and I started crying because I knew that she was going to find me. I tried to stay silent. Right before she limped to look in the narrow basement, my grandpa walked in, and they started talking about how I spilled the juicy butter everywhere. They walked into the kitchen.  I was thinking, ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’ I made a plan that I was going to rocket home because it isn’t that far. Once I had the nerve to escape, I ran out, and right then Grandma popped out of know where and yelled, “Boo!”

I wallowed on the ground because I was so scared. My eyes began to water from me crying. Grandma was laughing about to die while I was on the dirty ground about to cry again, while saying, “You’re the worst grandma ever.” She came to help me up and noticed that I peed my pants. Of course, she started massively laughing so hard her eyes were about to turn purple. I sprinted into the kitchen crying, picked up the red bowl of butter, and ate the rest of the scrumptious butter in my room.