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18 March 2005 @ 09:03 am
Camel's backs were made, apparently, to be broken.  
Okay, so I have no problem with getting up early every day of my break if it means that everything gets taken care of and I can just generally be helpful. I mean, sure I don't like to see 5:30 from the waking up side, but I'll do it if it's neccesary. In fact, I'll even do it with superficial cheer so that my siblings don't get pissy.

Furthermore, driving fighting pre-teen girls to school at 7 in the morning? I will do that, also. I will even attempt to cajole them out of their very pre-teen moods. I will play music loudly and dance ridiculously until they laugh. I'm that kind of sister.

Taking my dad from medical appointment to medical appointment? Absolutely no problem. He needs to get there, and he sure can't drive himself right now, and so I'll calmly sit through his intense back seat driving. I'll keep myself from pointing out that I know the names of the main roads here, because hey! I grew up here! I will even take him to the grocery store and follow him around in the little go-cart they provide and only harangue him a little about the things he's choosing to eat.

But don't ask me to 1) listen to Howard Stern as loud as it can get in the car before 9:00 AM or 2) nod and smile approvingly when you talk about how much you love Prez Bush. Because it ain't happenin', bucko. Not cheerfully, not calmly, not at all.

Now, if y'all will excuse me, I'm going to go crawl back into bed and try to find something on the 900 bajillion channels that I want to watch more than The Waltons.
Current Mood: predatorypredatory
celli on March 18th, 2005 03:37 pm (UTC)

If I still had it, I would send you Al Gore's speech on the Iraq War so you could play it at high volume.
O is for: ozymannedias babyozymannedias on March 18th, 2005 05:06 pm (UTC)
Poor dear! I'm sorry that you are being subjected to your dad's inexplicable love of Boy George.

Sell the children: it's really the only thing to do. And order your dad a Ukranian wife. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to follow him through publix singing hail to the chief.
luthorienneluthorienne on March 18th, 2005 10:05 pm (UTC)
I feel your pain. My parents live with my husband and me, and both my father and my husband are intensely political -- on opposite sides. My mother usually turns up the music really loud; I try to go to my Happy Place.

That backseat-driving thing? That never goes away, by the way.