The door flung open, and Casey waltzed in all sweaty and out of breath. She headed straight for the fridge.
“Nice jog dear?” Casey’s mum appeared from the lounge. Casey’s head popped out from behind the fridge door,
“Oh I suppose so. Firstly, as I set off across the park and some kid decides he’s gonna chuck a ball at my face, which hits me. Then after the shock of that, I trip over a pot hole, and fall into a muddy puddle. I get chased by Miss Smocho’s yappy mutt, again! And to top it all off I bump into Chris, covered in mud from head to toe….He must have thought I was a right idiot!”
“Well darling, that poor lad isn’t going to notice you any other time is he?” Casey, who was unimpressed by the remark, glared at her mother.
“I’m going for a shower”, she sighed, and stormed off upstairs.