I Lack a Sense of Family With My Family
[b]This is why I have such low self-esteem. [/b]
So every week when I was younger my family would all gather up on Sunday and for some reason it always ended up with them telling stories about the stupid things I had done during the week. And there was always plenty of stories. Like... when I was so excited about the good marks on my fifth grade report card and decided to demand that my mom let me watch a paperview movie on t.v. as a reward only to discover that my teacher accidentally gave me the wrong report card, and even worse, this had a name of a girl at the top in big bold print. Kim. That I faild to notice just like I faild pretty much everything on my actual report card. I remember slamming the bathroom door to hide for awhile but just before I slammed it I could hear my sister laughing, "poor girl that got his report card. She's probably going to be beaten. Hahhahahahhaha" (馃槧)
Or the one my dad likes to recall about earlier that week when he drove me up to get my football equipment for little league and my coach sent me out to get something from his truck and he told me the gate code was 37845 pound. ( He didn't tell me what pound meant.馃槧)
So when I got up to the gate and punched in 37845 into the key pad and slammed the top of the panel with my fist thinking I had to do that because of a loose connection like when I had to hit the t.v. to make the picture come back on every time it turned into a thin white line. Nothing, " what the frick?" So I punch it in again 37845 but this time I smack the side of the panel as hard as I can. Still nothing. Again I punch in 37845 and hit the top of the box. Nothing. Maybe 38745 slam... Nope. Right when I was about ready to rip the panel out of the wall to show my coach that there was something wrong with it my dad came jogging up. " What the heck is taking you so long?" The coach gave me the wrong code see, and I punch in 37845pound and unload a massive punch down on the panel because I wanted to show off how strong I was. Whack.. and nothing happend. See he gave me the wrong code. My dad being relieved I didn't break the darn thing laughs out loud, ( this is when my whole family starts laughing in the family room.馃槦)
My dad: that's not what he meant by pound, you don't know what the pound key is? It's right here. He presses the # looking button and I hear a click and the gate opens. Yes! I make a big smile. (馃榿) and then said don't tell coach. ( again everyone laughs. Hahahaha.馃槧)
At this point I start sliding up a few steps on the stairs to get away from all the laughter coming from the family room when I decide to recounter my own tale of the week. About how when snooping through my sister's closet looking for some candy I just so happened to stumble across a full carton of marble cigarettes stashed away down in the far corner. But now, all of a sudden, shit ain't funny no more?! (馃槨)
So every week when I was younger my family would all gather up on Sunday and for some reason it always ended up with them telling stories about the stupid things I had done during the week. And there was always plenty of stories. Like... when I was so excited about the good marks on my fifth grade report card and decided to demand that my mom let me watch a paperview movie on t.v. as a reward only to discover that my teacher accidentally gave me the wrong report card, and even worse, this had a name of a girl at the top in big bold print. Kim. That I faild to notice just like I faild pretty much everything on my actual report card. I remember slamming the bathroom door to hide for awhile but just before I slammed it I could hear my sister laughing, "poor girl that got his report card. She's probably going to be beaten. Hahhahahahhaha" (馃槧)
Or the one my dad likes to recall about earlier that week when he drove me up to get my football equipment for little league and my coach sent me out to get something from his truck and he told me the gate code was 37845 pound. ( He didn't tell me what pound meant.馃槧)
So when I got up to the gate and punched in 37845 into the key pad and slammed the top of the panel with my fist thinking I had to do that because of a loose connection like when I had to hit the t.v. to make the picture come back on every time it turned into a thin white line. Nothing, " what the frick?" So I punch it in again 37845 but this time I smack the side of the panel as hard as I can. Still nothing. Again I punch in 37845 and hit the top of the box. Nothing. Maybe 38745 slam... Nope. Right when I was about ready to rip the panel out of the wall to show my coach that there was something wrong with it my dad came jogging up. " What the heck is taking you so long?" The coach gave me the wrong code see, and I punch in 37845pound and unload a massive punch down on the panel because I wanted to show off how strong I was. Whack.. and nothing happend. See he gave me the wrong code. My dad being relieved I didn't break the darn thing laughs out loud, ( this is when my whole family starts laughing in the family room.馃槦)
My dad: that's not what he meant by pound, you don't know what the pound key is? It's right here. He presses the # looking button and I hear a click and the gate opens. Yes! I make a big smile. (馃榿) and then said don't tell coach. ( again everyone laughs. Hahahaha.馃槧)
At this point I start sliding up a few steps on the stairs to get away from all the laughter coming from the family room when I decide to recounter my own tale of the week. About how when snooping through my sister's closet looking for some candy I just so happened to stumble across a full carton of marble cigarettes stashed away down in the far corner. But now, all of a sudden, shit ain't funny no more?! (馃槨)
