Maybe I'm just hormonal, but fuck maturity
Have I ever mentioned that I grew up with all brothers? Even my cousins are guys. I was the first girl born to my large Midwest family since...my mom.
The issue doesn't normally come up. The worst case was actually in the unfortunate living arrangements of my first year in my college dorms in which I was assigned three other crazies to my 4-vagina sweet.
Oh sure. It went fine for a few weeks and then all hell broke loose. Something about dried macaroni on plastic dishes and Catholic school. I don't know. I lost interest after one roommate threatened to kill the other and didn't.
Who can keep up with college catfights? I can't.
Anyway the whole hormonal mess (I'm convinced it was hormonal) climaxed when one of the Catholic girls was videotaped peeing in another of the roommate's muffins (One more reason not to be a Catholic) and then getting kicked out. The other got arrested shortly after for substantial drug use. I was at work that night and had to actually restrain myself from visiting her in lockup so I could point and laugh.
So when a friend of mine was complimenting me on my overall "togetherness" and maturity, I tried hard not to preen and get too wrapped up in the absolute truth of her compliments. Until she suggested I apply to the BigBrothersBigSisters program and become a mentor.
I pondered the idea for some time before agreeing to apply. After all, I'd only had experience being a big sister to little brothers. Never little sisters. And what do you know, I was accepted and handed my own Lil Sister.
So now that I have her I'm just wondering what the hell to do with her?
She can't afford to spend more than $5 everytime we hang out so it basically limits us to free activities. We've gone to the museum, we've gone to the park(where she whined about the heat the entire fucking time), we've gone to lunch (I paid), and we've went bowling (I paid).
I finally dragged her to Boyfriend's swank apartment clubhouse and let her run amuck last week. We stopped for TACOBELL before hand and sat on the pooldeck, munching.
I had a taco. That's it. A taco and a pepsi. The 10-year-old chunk next to me demolished her own 3taco meal.
When she was bored with swimming (free), bowling (free), playing pool (free) and playing in the FREE arcade, (I told you his apartment rocked.) She set her sights on the pretty impressive gym.
"We should work out," she says to me.
I stare back. "I've already worked out today."
"But we need to work out."
"You're ten. You're job is to play, not worry about weight. You have plenty of time for that."
"Don't you want to work out?"
"Nope." I relax back into my pool chair. Contently sunbathing.
"But you ate an entire taco."
I lift my sunglasses slowly to eyeball her.
"You don't want to get fat."
At this point if she were a boy in my family I'd have dropkicked her. But seeing as 1)we weren't related and 2)I'd get arrested for accosting a 10-year-old, I tried to ignore her by sliding my glasses back in place and going back to my sunbathing.
The sly little demon that she is, she stood over me whispering, "An entire taco. You'll get fat. Fat. Fat. Fat." Over and over again.
As if a college girl needs any more people judging her weight. Fiend. Finally I caved to her psychological assault.
I set her on a treadmill at nearly a completely upright angle and put the speed as high as it would go. I watched her struggle uphill on the treadmill for a few minutes and tried hard not to laugh evilly until our time together was through.
Was this negating my mature mentor status? Who the fuck cares.
The issue doesn't normally come up. The worst case was actually in the unfortunate living arrangements of my first year in my college dorms in which I was assigned three other crazies to my 4-vagina sweet.
Oh sure. It went fine for a few weeks and then all hell broke loose. Something about dried macaroni on plastic dishes and Catholic school. I don't know. I lost interest after one roommate threatened to kill the other and didn't.
Who can keep up with college catfights? I can't.
Anyway the whole hormonal mess (I'm convinced it was hormonal) climaxed when one of the Catholic girls was videotaped peeing in another of the roommate's muffins (One more reason not to be a Catholic) and then getting kicked out. The other got arrested shortly after for substantial drug use. I was at work that night and had to actually restrain myself from visiting her in lockup so I could point and laugh.
So when a friend of mine was complimenting me on my overall "togetherness" and maturity, I tried hard not to preen and get too wrapped up in the absolute truth of her compliments. Until she suggested I apply to the BigBrothersBigSisters program and become a mentor.
I pondered the idea for some time before agreeing to apply. After all, I'd only had experience being a big sister to little brothers. Never little sisters. And what do you know, I was accepted and handed my own Lil Sister.
So now that I have her I'm just wondering what the hell to do with her?
She can't afford to spend more than $5 everytime we hang out so it basically limits us to free activities. We've gone to the museum, we've gone to the park(where she whined about the heat the entire fucking time), we've gone to lunch (I paid), and we've went bowling (I paid).
I finally dragged her to Boyfriend's swank apartment clubhouse and let her run amuck last week. We stopped for TACOBELL before hand and sat on the pooldeck, munching.
I had a taco. That's it. A taco and a pepsi. The 10-year-old chunk next to me demolished her own 3taco meal.
When she was bored with swimming (free), bowling (free), playing pool (free) and playing in the FREE arcade, (I told you his apartment rocked.) She set her sights on the pretty impressive gym.
"We should work out," she says to me.
I stare back. "I've already worked out today."
"But we need to work out."
"You're ten. You're job is to play, not worry about weight. You have plenty of time for that."
"Don't you want to work out?"
"Nope." I relax back into my pool chair. Contently sunbathing.
"But you ate an entire taco."
I lift my sunglasses slowly to eyeball her.
"You don't want to get fat."
At this point if she were a boy in my family I'd have dropkicked her. But seeing as 1)we weren't related and 2)I'd get arrested for accosting a 10-year-old, I tried to ignore her by sliding my glasses back in place and going back to my sunbathing.
The sly little demon that she is, she stood over me whispering, "An entire taco. You'll get fat. Fat. Fat. Fat." Over and over again.
As if a college girl needs any more people judging her weight. Fiend. Finally I caved to her psychological assault.
I set her on a treadmill at nearly a completely upright angle and put the speed as high as it would go. I watched her struggle uphill on the treadmill for a few minutes and tried hard not to laugh evilly until our time together was through.
Was this negating my mature mentor status? Who the fuck cares.
Labels: All things Vagina
This entry was posted
on 30.6.06 at 8:43 PM.
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12:52 AMoh my god you have a hell of alot more patience then me! kids and i are like pickles and lysol. you get the drift.
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