I sat at the table quiet as a mouse and slouched in my chair. I wasn’t ready to tell my mom that I was too big to fit into the Rabbit hole. I was hoping she wouldn’t ask.  ‘How did Alice do it?’ I thought to myself.
            “Sweetie bring your plate over, I made your favorite! Spaghetti.” My mom called from the Kitchen. She looked happy; why was she happy? Could she not see how upset I was?  Spaghetti was my favorite. I stood up with my plate and walked slowly over to the stove, doing a little hop in my step. I wasn’t sure why I did that, I had since I fist started walking; I guess it just stuck. People would say it was cute, and that was fine with me. The spaghetti looked especially good and I couldn’t wait to eat it, as soon as it hit my plate I practically ran back to the table and began to eat. My mom joined me and laughed about my excitement about the spaghetti.
            “Do you want anything to drink?” my mom asked me while whipping the spaghetti sauce from around her mouth.
            “Can I have some Gatorade?” I said. It wasn’t exactly a question because I knew I could have some Gatorade. My mom only shook her head because her mouth was still full with food. She slipped out of her chair and walked over to the fridge.
            “Blue, red, or orange?” she asked.
            “Red, Can I pour it please?” I begged.
            “Okay, I’ll hold the cup for you and you pour, but only if you can pour me some too.” She said teasingly. Truth was, Gatorade was never her favorite but she always got it just because I loved pouring. It made me feel grown up. I pushed back my seat and moved over to my mom, who was already holding the red Gatorade in her hands. She held the cup and I poured my Gatorade all the way to the very tiptop. My mom didn’t like when I did that but she never yelled at me for it.
            “What color Gatorade do you want mommy?” I asked smiling up at my mom.
            “Hm. I like the blue one.”
            “I CAN GET IT!!!!!” I said eager to get the bottle of Gatorade. I walked over to the fridge and reached up for the blue Gatorade all the way on the top shelve. I had to stand on the fridge floor just to be able to reach it. My fingers barley touched the sides of the container but I was able to twist and pull it closer and than grab it. It took me two hands to carry it over to the counter.
            “Got it?” My mom said, offering some help.
            “I got it.” I said half smiling. I couldn’t fully smile because all my energy was being used to carry the Gatorade; it was really heavy for me.  I poured it for my mom than she put both Gatorades back and the fridge and we both brought our drinks to the table. I had to take a sip of mine first because it was too full to carry it without spilling. We sat down at the table and laughed and talked while we ate my favorite food.