Picture it: yesterday, after the aftercare visit, approaching the shoe store.
There we were, at the metal staircase. I went up the stairs and told my mommy what to write.
We were spying on the people who were getting out of their cars. We went up the stairs to get a better view. Up high, she looked over the edge. "Look at him!" I called. I saw a man that looked like a scientist. And I also saw a car with a gym sticker on the back of it. He had goggles around his neck and a long coat. He might have just created a secret potion, a magical potion that would keep you alive forever.I watched her lean over the edge. Her mind is always writing stories.
We're spyers, she said later at home. Will you type my words for me?
We had fun spying. Our minds were blinking. We were unable to stop thinking about it! We were good spyers because the people didn't notice we were spying on them so it didn't hurt their feelings. We could be in the spying championship. We're awesome spyers. Spyers are awesome. Spyers rule because they get to know things about other people that they never knew.Will you blog about this?
If you want me to.
I do, she said. We'll call it "spy bloggers."
So we did.