Ribbon

Ribbon

There once was a ribbon. Her name was Ribbon, as plain as the decorative object that she was. Ribbon was very vain and liked to get up every morning from her place in the sewing basket full of odds and ends. Every morning, she would look into the small pink hand mirror that would be lying beside her in the sewing basket. She would see the cutest, most beautiful face in the whole world every morning and was delighted. Then Ribbon would reluctantly stop admiring herself and would begin to get ready for the day ahead of her. Ribbon was a blend of deep blue and light purple. She had sparkly pink edges and felt like China’s best silk when she twirled across your hand.

Ribbon usually would be in good spirits everyday, but there was somebody she loathed.

Her name was Scissors and liked to tease Ribbon about her extravagant looks.

Scissors would say, “Ribbon, you should start being like me. I am everyone’s role model. I can take care of myself with these strong, but fashionable, blades…unlike your limp, weak material. Also my eyes are so big I can see everything!”

“Yeah, but too bad you can’t see that I look better than you even if I can’t protect myself you oversized piece of scrap metal!”, Ribbon would snap back.

Ribbon would get so angry, she would turn a bright red all over and start arguing or crying. That day, this sort of feud happened between the two again and the whole sewing basket complained of the racket. Oddball the ragged string would come out of his little pile of odds and ends to yell back at Ribbon and Scissors to “shut up.”

Oddball complained, “I’m working on deciphering a code in this map I found the other day. Stop bothering me, or u two will regret it.”

Then Ribbon became curious, stopped babbling, and asked, “What map? Is it the one that the kids found yesterday? Is your map the one that the kids put into our sewing basket and forgot about it?”

“One and the same. The location of the buried treasure is very far, but a few days by boat should get us there. Unfortunately, I’m too old to go on these types of expeditions. Forget it then.” said, Oddball.

“Treasure? Real buried treasure? With pirate gold and jewels the size of frying pans?