Really though, I truly may never lay in the sun on purpose again now that I have a daughter. How can I ever ground her for life for setting foot in a tanning bed if I'm saturated in vegetable oil during peak burn-risk hours? I seriously used to do that when I was 16 in the backyard. My brother too. No joke. My brother would tan in the backyard covered in Wesson.
Dear blonde-haired, non-Italian, Bible-beating guido... how I don't miss the old days. We get along so much better now. I'd even venture to say I could room with him again and not get in scissor-wielding fights yelling, "I'm going to cut you with these!" tears streaming down my face after being punched in the stomach. I swear I'd only trimmed the long fringe from my cut-offs and threw it in my brother's floor to deserve the punch. He swears I'd kicked him in the nuts.
We may never know. I guess unless we contact all the macho guys that were in his room in the first place I was showing off for by being the little sassy sister. Surely that'd make them ALL want to be my boyfriend. Uh'huh. Yep. I knew what I was doing at an early age. Or at least I knew to fly down the stairs crying to tell my mom the whole story, even including the part about calling him an a-hole before he could tattle. That way she'd understand he provoked the whole thing, and it was obviously his fault I had a filthy mouth.
God help us all. I have one of these now. Let's hope she's got a lower setting on the drama dial. So far so good.
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