A Day in Life as Harlin Hopscotch

I, Harlin Hopscotch, lead a wonderful life of peace, family, and contentment. I have a caring wife, cheerful children, and a great job. I work at the Toy Shop near the countryside, where it serves as an extra inventory store too. It is only a short car ride away from my Deluxe Village House with my Family Seven Seater, and the work is very routine.

I wake up in my comfy Semi-Double Bed just as the sun is warming up the air, while my lovely Heidi has prepared extravagant breakfasts and lunches for me. Usually, I am greeted with a slice of pound cake and a cup of carrot tea. My wife makes the best carrot tea! She puts on a pot of sink water. Boils it, and then pours it into a teapot already filled with a carrot and some zesty orange tea powder. The flavors combine and steep all night, waiting for their drinkers by early morning.

“Have a wondrous day.” Heidi bids me farewell sweetly.

I hop aboard my Family Seven Seater and head down to the Toy Shop, my place of work.

The Toy Shop always has a cheerful composure and innocence of its appearance. The colors are all so pastel, and I make sure the toys are appealingly arranged. Taking a quick check, everything is in neat order. On the top of my mind is the day’s important task: boxing up a toy car rattle for Adelaide Outback Koala. She is turning four soon so his family specially placed an order to the Hopper Kangaroos, the owner of the Toy Shop. I received a call from them last night. With caution, I lift the little rattle out of the shelves and into a delicate box. The box is a beautiful pink with a petite ribbon. Carefully, I wrap the present in and add the finishing touch complementary to each gift order of the Toy Shop: a card. The card is small and cute with a tiny teddy bear in the corner, perfect for the order to write a short and sweet message.

The gift is finished, and I carry it into my car trunk.

I’ll deliver it soon on Monday, when I always drive from my countryside home to town for gift deliveries and grocery restocking.

After rearranging the play corner, lunchtime comes rather soonly as always. I hop aboard the car again, and head for the house. There, Heidi is busy cooking. She is stirring away at a bubbling pot of boiled flour. Once in a while, she’ll add in a dash of salt and pepper in between stirrings.

“I’m here,” I announce to be replied, “Lunch will be ready soon,” by Heidi.

Bell, my beloved daughter, eagerly greets me and serves me my coffee. My coffee is very special to me. I am a bit of a coffee fanatic afterall. A steaming fresh cup is poured into our fine coffee cup set.

“Aaah,” I sigh from that first sip. “Perfect as always!” I inform Bell.

Always timely, Heidi has already set the table with generous helpings of her homestyle cooking by the time I finish. A pot of boiled flour staple is set in the middle alongside a squash bake. Salt and pepper are neatly set to the edge for seasoning.

Digging in, each bite is delicious. With a wooden ladle, I scoop flour into my plate with salt and pepper added on later. Taking chunks of the baked squash, the meal is simple yet delicious. ‘Simple yet delicious’ was the motto of all country cooking styles, including my wife’s.

Beforelong, I head back. It is time to do an inventory count. Whatever gifts had been ordered had diminished the supply of toys stored. We’ll need another car. Two more squeakers, and definitely a book set. Inventory count down, I need to prepare the play corner for the weekend special. The Hopscotch Kangaroo parents, always so kindly towards young children, had agreed to offer free access to their play corner on weekends. It was always an activity of great joy to the babies each weekend. I always made sure to rearrange the toys there for greater variety.

Tea party activity table in one set for the girls, a little shopping cart put in its proper place, a toy drum waiting for its player atop the play corner walls, etc…

After all of that, I am finally able to come home to an eagerly awaiting family. Each day of work is very orderly, and I have always enjoyed children and babies. It is not particularly fancy, but it has fed my family and kept us very happy. The trusty Family Seven Seater van escorts me home with ease and safety. The sky is darker now, but inside I can already hear the music of a large family life. The shower is going off, Heidi is chopping carrots, babies are giggling. Their melodies will be more beautiful than any fancy town concert I’ll ever hear!

Opening the solid red oak door of the house, I can already see Bell awaiting me eagerly. She pours coffee special powder and water into the top of the coffee machine. It is blended into a pot of coffee.

“Daddy,” she greets. “Aww, my little girl,” I respond back, as she tops up a cup of coffee for me. My paws go for the television’s single switch, tuned to the nature channel. One by one, I am greeted with warm smiles and acknowledgements.

“Hey, Dad,” Skip lets out.

“Good evening, Mr. Hopscotch,” Karen and David nod.

“We missed you, honey,” Heidi exclaims.

“Dada!” my babies cry out.

Slowly, they all file to their activities of dusk. Cooking dinner, organizing their bedrooms, setting the table, etc…

I finished my nature channel in a pleasant mood. My cheeky (slightly spoiled) baby daughter, Honey, seizes the chance for attention and waddles up to the couch. A story book is in her hands.

“Dada!” she giggles in a fit.

“What is it, my baby daughter?”

“Me want donut and story!”

She lets out her cutest little face, with twinkling black eyes to top it off. Falling for it again, I take the little storybook out of her arms and Bellia brings her a strawberry glazed donut on the teal donut plate. I can see Honey’s eyes bulge out of enthusiasm and excitement.

“The house…” I read.

By the time I get to the finish of the book, Honey is off in a dozy sleepy state. Karen notices, and says, “Let me take her up for a quick tooth brushing before she’s put to bed.”

Dinner is served, as I sit and talk with my son, Skip.

“So how was your day?” I ask while pouring myself a nice cup of Heidi’s carrot tea.

“A lot of studying,” he proclaims. “I’m so worried about the Spring Term Test.”

“Just put your best effort, and you will do fine. Your mother and I aren’t asking for a 10.” I try to encourage.

He nods, and I can see my words do comfort my troubled son. Dinner is finished up with spotless plates. Nonetheless, my daughters hurry to clear the table and help with dishes. I walk up the wooden steps with the whitened handrail to the bathroom to prepare for my evening bath.

Hot water washing through my fur, I shampoo thoroughly and soap myself down.

Spick and span, I go through my rounds of bidding everyone a fair night before retiring to bed.

“Good night,” I bid the children. They are all already climbing into bed or brushing their teeth.

“Good night now,” I let the babies know.

“I’ll be upstairs in bed,” I tell Heidi, who is doing her last kitchen cleaning before heading upstairs to bed. I notice a new pot of carrot tea brewing on the stovetop already. Meanwhile, the plates are placed in their proper places, as Heidi places the shiny spoons into the kitchen drawers.

The day is done, and tomorrow will be another one.