In July 2026, I wrote this short story as part of an initiative by Ottawa Independent Writers to encourage some creative short story writing during the summer. The theme was to be ‘shenanigans’ and the word limit was one thousand. I chose to write a story of children in 1966 living in a small Ontario town. I had fun writing this as I sent my imagination into what I could have been up to during the dog days of summer, if I had chosen to live as a ‘shenanigan’.
Dog Days of Summer
My name is Dennis. I am nine years old. I am also a twin, with my sister Abby. We have two younger sisters, Harriet and Janice who are five and two years old. Our parents are Sheila and Frank Jones. We live in a small Ontario town where it seems like everyone knows everyone.
It is Wednesday August 10th, 1966, a few days after our birthday and Abby and I are bored silly. All summer, we have been at day camps or visiting our grandparents but now we have free days one after another. Our father works all day and our mother is busy with household chores and taking care of four children. Today is even worse as she is also preparing the house for a visit by Dad’s parents.
Let me tell you about our day.
“Bye Mom!” we yell as Abby and I charge out the door without looking back. Freedom was ahead and our bikes were ready to go. From the kitchen counter, we had grabbed our knapsacks in which were drinks, cookies and apples. We had a plan. Our first stop was going to be the mailboxes at the end of our street where eight families lived and collect their mail.
We whipped down the dirt street, our bikes stirring up dust. We skidded to a stop at the corner and dropped our bikes. Abby took the first four mailboxes and pried their lids open, while I took care of the other four. We grabbed the mail from each box and distributed it among the other seven boxes. Everyone was going to be surprised when they picked up ‘their’ mail. We moved quickly and were off on our bikes several minutes later, confident that we had not been seen.
Next stop was at old Mrs MacDonald’s house. She lived just around the corner. She hung out her laundry first thing in the morning. We hid our bikes under a hedge and made sure no one was watching. Perfect! There were sheets in which to hide as we worked. We had done this before and it always made us laugh. We tied the arms of all the shirts and blouses together, and then turned the clothes peg bag upside down just to make a mess. Then we were off.
We took our time as we wheeled along the neighbourhood streets. Our friends Mikey and Nora were playing outside their house and after we played basketball for a time, they decided to join us on our bike tour. Next stop was the little plaza on Main Street. We figured we could hang out there for a bit and wander through the always interesting general store. Outside there were nine bicycles in the bike rack. With a glance at each other, we sprang into action. Five minutes later, the four of us had let the air out of the tires. Laughing, we sprinted to a nearby community park. What a great morning!
We played on the swings, play structure and merry-go-round until we were hot, tired and dirty. We sat in the shade, eating our apples and cookies, and drinking our lemonade. There were many families in the park by that time, most of whom were in the swimming pool. One last job lay ahead. As Nora stood watch, the three of us snatched all the towels where they had been hung on the pool fence, and hid them under a picnic table at the other end of the park. It was time to go.
We took a short cut through a farmer’s field and through a creek that ran under some railway tracks. As it was really hot, we cooled off while playing in the creek. After a bit, Mikey and Nora had to get home so we headed out. Yelling goodbye as we passed in front of their house, Abby and I slowly cycled along the streets. We could see our house on the other side of the large vacant fields but it was too early to head home. Time for one last piece of mischief before we were too close to home.
Setting our bikes in a nearby ditch, we each crept to different sides of the next street. We did not even have to talk as we knew what to do. Fifteen minutes later and we had played ‘nick-nicky nine doors’ at all fourteen houses, and then walked up the next street to retrieve our bicycles. It had been a busy fun-filled day of play and hi-jinks, and we were tired. It was time to go home and play under the sprinkler.
That was the plan anyway.
As we entered the house, Mom stood in the kitchen, glaring at us. She looked downright angry. “Hang up your bags and wash your hands. It is time for a talk.”
Abby and I exchanged glances. What was wrong? All was quiet until the phone rang. Mother sighed and picked it up. We could hear an angry voice at the other end, “Sheila, this is Vera MacDonald. I just came home and found all my laundry tied in knots. It was your two delinquents. They were seen by my neighbour. I won’t stand for this anymore.” Before Mom could say a word, we heard the phone being slammed down. Slowly, Mom turned to us, as tears welled up in her eyes.
“My entire day has been telephone calls about the two of you. Mailboxes being raided. Laundry being tied up. Bicycle tires being deflated. Swim towels being taken. People being disturbed at their homes. What has gotten into the two of you? How did you think no one would notice? I am so embarrassed and disappointed. There will be punishment once I have spoken with your father but for now, into your bedroom and begin thinking of how you will apologize to everyone. Shenanigans such as these will simply not be tolerated.
This was not a good end to what had been a great day.