"MOM?" Ally yelled. I felt that weird feeling in my gut where I was as nervous as a rabbit. I froze, cause what else would I do. Then, like a rabbit, I scampered down the stairs, in search of my mother.
"MO-" I am cut off by the sound of her voice.
"What the heck? Why is the oven on?"
So that's what Ally set. I thought it was the microwave.
"Ally, you set the oven?"
"Okay," she begins. "Just because I'm horrible with electronics, except for phones, computers, tv's, hairdryers, dvd players, mp3 players, and on the computer, I email, shop, go on Youtube and Myspace and FaceBook and Twitter and-"
"We get it," I said
"It just doesn't mean I'm good with ovens."
"Ally," my mom begins, "You have been in Baking Class your whole life."
"….Oh Yeah….OH NO! WE'RE GONNA MISS OUR FLIGHT!"
Ally always does that, changing the subject when she's about to get yelled at. But this time, I understood why.
"Well what are we waiting for? Let's GO!" Mom says.
We all rush out into our garage and pile into her car. She starts the engine and we floor it. To Hollywood, Finally!