The whole home met up that night after dinner, crowding into the living room like the Simpsons plust 10. The ages varied from infants to 17 year olds who'd be moving out that summer, including, moi. Everybody fidgeted the same, like six year olds with a pocket of red fire ants. Maybe that' exaggerating a little, but there are a few people here I'd like to see with pugnacious, mental looking ants in their delicates. Why are those ants so big headed?

Mr. Dueffry sat himself on the easy chair, the Mrs. Perched on the armrest. She looked about ready to drain her face. I couldn't help but crack a smile when the image of everbody kneeling, readied eith sponges and mops came into my mind.

"Gretchen, is there something you'd like to share?" Mr. Deuffry asked, pretending like he really cared about what went on in my twisted mind.

Almost everybody looked right at me. Oh wait, now they did. Huey is a little slow in reacting. I tried to force my smile down, looking like a constipated moron, I'm sure, and said the best I could, "Sponges.", as if that explained everything.

There was a ripple of laugther, which would of made anybody feel better, but not me. I knew they were laughing at me, and not the non-existant sponges. Respect the sponges. What esle will obsorb your spills and then spew germs all over you?

Sponges are a breeding ground for those suckers.

Mr. Deuffry went back to whatever it was he needed to say, some of those eyes lingering on me still. I just ignored them, because they're next ot get questioned if they didn't give their attention to the Deuff.

"As I was saying, "he continued, breifly glancing at me. That jerk."There's been an incident."

I prettened to cover my mouth in premature shock in order to cover up my smirk as I thought, "Did somebody plant Cheetos in your office?" Hah! That commercial was so lame that it acheived mild humor. But it was good enought for me to rmemember from like, my infancy. It was acient even then.

"Because of that incident, The Deuffry Home will be closing down."

Hah-hah-ha-oh.

My hand lowered, now I really was in shock.

"What? Why?" asked little George. Gotta love those genaric names. Take long to come up with that one Mr. and Mrs. I'm-too-good-for-a-kid-and-therefor-think-we-should-give-him-a-crappy-name? Don't get me wrong, that's not my opinion on every parent who ditches their kid, but in Georges case, it was exactly true. His parently simply thought kids were terrible and weren't worth the trouble. Before you tell me all about, I already know I'm a horrible person, so the following year when they got hit by a Diaper truck, I laughed until I scared the little kids. Including George.

"Well, there are many reasons. None of which having to do with out ability to foster parent."he informed, slash, defeanded.

"So, uh, we're gonna get dumped out on the street?" Good ol' Randy, 'quick to light the wick,' as The Deuff says. Randy isn't a dude really, more like a really really dude-ified chick. She shares a room with Wendy, ther's that originality again, who we all know would not get into any mischeif with Randy. Or so they thought. Lucky me got to walk in ont them scissoring. That's a memory I'll never be able to scrub from my whatever-lobe.

"No Randy. Alot of people will be comming by to either adopt, take you to another home, or provide a place to stay." Mrs. Deufry said, settling her water works.

Ther was a breif quietness before Randy spoke up again, "So, what's the differance between being adopted and provided for?" he asked. She asked.

Whatever.

"Well, when you're adopted, you are a part of the family with all the fixings and paper work. When you are provided, you are just staying with a trusted member of the community, but not as an adoptive child. You're still a foster child, just not in a foster building." Explained the Deuff. Sort of.

"Like on aminal vets?" When the vetamatarion take a aminal home fo r little bit but doesn't keep it?" asked the child knownf for his absolute love for 'aminuls". This was Chris the six year old Steve Irwen. Yep, he even picks up garden snakes and teaches anybody who cares to listen about any animal he knows about. If he isn't bothering the wildlife, he's either watching Animal Planet or reading Zoobooks. Good ol' Chris.

"Exactly!" said Mr. Deuffry. I had to admit, that helped even me a little.

"Where am I going?" asked a little kid who I can never remember. Every first few seconds I see him, I swear to god he's new, but it takes only a few more seconds to remember that he's been here for two years. Anyway, nowt thathe asked that question, now everybody was wanting to know at that instant what their fate would be. Itw as a loud rally, but eventually the Deuffrys were able to shut them up.

"We don't all know yet. You will by tomarrow." said the Deuff. Mrs. Deuffry ebgan to face-leak again. It seemd a little conviniant that we'd know that soon. My guess it that they've known for a while now and they knew we'd want to know A.S.A.P. Clever geezers. They couldn't use a PS6, but they cab decypher our simple minds.

So the whole group split up, eitehr crying or blathering to each other. I just left upstairs. Call me uncaring, call me detatched, or call me Gretchen. Any of them work.