 |
 |
feeling: hungry
listening to: the spawn babbling downstairs
WHY are they not going away? :\
Ok. For as long as history has been recorded, it's been a given that my grandparents would come over on Christmas morning. In the past it was to see what goodies my brother and I had received. Then it was just to visit. Then Grandma passed away, but Grandpa and William and his little demon spawn (who is now heavily laden with a bastard spawn of her own) still come over. The past couple years I was able to avoid them by just pretending to still be asleep up here, since they all come over at some ungodly hour like 9am and usually just stay until dad feeds them cold cut sandwiches or something. But now it's almost 1:30 and they're still sitting down there hogging the living room to watch stupid Western flicks and with bellies full of the freaking feast that my father apparently prepared this morning. Yeah, if I had known he was going to pull a repeat of Thanksgiving today, I might have tried to precede them and gotten up earlier. I've been awake since who knows when anyway thanks to the cat stealing my bed.
Now, I have nothing against my grandpa. It's my uncle and that little demon spawn of his that I can't stand. If I had already been up and about and downstairs before they came it would be somewhat more tolerable, but the problem here is that I would have to "make an entrance" by walking downstairs and through the living room where they're all sitting around staring at John Wayne in order to reach my destination. And every single time I have to go downstairs when they're already here, no matter what time of day it is and how long I've been up and active already, they give me the "It's aliiiiiiiive! Hehehehehehhhh" treatment. Yeah, because sniggering around at my expense just because I don't get up before the crack of dawn every day like they do never gets old.
Even worse, since today is Christmas and the parents apparently put a couple little gifts under the tree for me, as soon as I go downstairs they'll make me sit there on the floor like a little 5 year old and open them and show them off to everybody. Um, no thank you. I do that when I can sit in a chair and open the things when the parents are too busy running around getting ready to visit Chris and Braeden to really care what I'm doing. I know exactly what they are anyway - they've had me pick out my own gifts for years now. I have no idea why they still put me through the Santa treatment with them.
...FINALLY THEY'RE LEAVING NOW *dawdles a few more minutes before lunching*
comment! (2)
dragged from Becky's stream of consciousness at 12/25/2008 01:16:00 PM
|
|
