One day my mom wanted to take my brother and I to my great grandparents house. Driving there took an hour. It seemed like such a long time for me because I was only five at the time. When I stepped out of the car I was so happy to stand and walk again. When I walked in I was greeted by my great grandma and then my great grandpa. Whenever I go to there house I go straight to the outside fridge with my great grandpa and get a chocolate bar. After that I went in the hot tub with my brother. We then went inside the house. My mom and my great grandma were making dinner. When I walk in the kitchen I asked,

I then asked, ”What's for dinner?”

“Spaghetti” replied my mom.

When my mom took the pot away to give spaghetti to everyone I saw the red stove. I didn’t know what would happen if I touched it. So with curiosity I touched it. It didn’t hurt that much for the first minute but after that it hurt really bad. I ran down stairs and tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it. My mom kept on calling me.

“Time to eat Ezra.” Yelled my mom.

It took awhile for her to find me, but adventually she did.

“I touched the stove.” I said while crying to my mom.

“Lets go and get some ice.” Said my mom.

My mom walked me up to the kitchen and she got me some ice. My finger got better and better and then me and my family had dinner. After that day I said to myself I will not EVER touch a stove again.