Making Things Is Fun! I Think...

He was late. So dreadfully late that he didn't even take the time to clean himself off as he hurried through the corridors and raced through the halls, slipping down stairs and even knocking over a thing or two as his paws slipped out from under him as he made his way to his mother. He had been helping clean the place up, yes, and he had gotten so absorbed in it that he hadn't even heard his mom until he realized that it was real and not just in his head. The young boy hated disappointing others, and already he felt he was starting to.

He breathed hard as he found his way, and by the time he arrived, his mother and sister seemed to be in the midst of whatever activity was at hand. He burst into the room, skidding and slipping to a halt with his ears back and a shameful expression on his face. "Sorry I'm late mother! I didn't mean to be..." would she be upset with him?