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I’m glad my fanbase is going down a lot, really…not.
As I wrote yesterday (maybe…I’m not sure if I included this detail), Alexa had a sleepover last night with one of her good friends. Good friend = annoying girl who abuses Alexa into thinking she’s her friend when she’s really not. How do I know? That’s how some of my friends were in third or so grade. I really hate watching it happen to Alexa, and I know how it feels to have someone discourage you from hanging out with them when you think the offender is a friend, but really, most of her friends have committed offenses towards me, such as pushiness, rudeness, animal abuse with the cats, and general stupidness, as though their parents never taught them manners. So I feel obliged to tell her off for hanging out with them. Also, in this area, I think it’s hard to find real, non-annoying friends until you hit about 7th grade.
Well, when my dad picked me up from Derek’s, he told me that this particular friend of Alexa’s (we’ll call her Betsy) was sleeping over, and that they were upstairs washing Neopets in the bathroom or something. This would all have been fine and good if they were using soap and if the Neopets were plastic instead of plush. When I got home, though, Rachael alerted me that they’d used Step 1 of Proactiv (the peroxide, yeah), my peppermint shampoo that I’d received for Christmas, shaving cream, shampoo, and special soap that was my mother’s. I blew this off as generally dumb, since Rachael and I used to wash Barbies in the sink all the time when we were little, and quite frankly, I was too relaxed/tired to even give half a shit. Rachael was concerned, though, so I decided to give like a quarter of a shit because I knew Alexa’s nature of making concoctions and ruining shit that wasn’t hers.
So in the morning, after I found out that some little fucker had peed on my bed (a cat, of course) and decided that I needed to wash my pants after like a week of wearing them, I went into the bathroom to get some more darks out of the hamper. What I found in the hamper was enough to make your average housewife have a fit and then maybe go into seizures. There were two damp towels in there (which turned out to be almost dripping wet) that had leaked their water and their pungent, shampoo-y aroma onto all the clothes in the basket. This, of course, causes mold, and I don’t know about you, but I hate moldy clothes. You can’t always get the smell out. After picking up the shampoo scent, though, I decided that I’d better evaluate the damage to our supply of sanitary products. I shook all the bottles to realize that half of what was left of my 24-oz peppermint shampoo was gone, meaning they’d used a good quarter of the bottle like 6 oz. Man, that’s about the size of a whole bottle of Chloraseptic. Most of my mom’s soap was gone, I was missing some contact solution, a good portion of conditioner was gone (which, combined with peppermint, was what made the smell), the brand new shaving cream was completely gone…I thought I was going to bust a cap!
Since my mom would have normally yelled at Alexa for being stupid beyond belief–or not let her go into the bathroom with Jessica and Neopets at all–I decided that just telling her about all my evaluations would be good enough. My mom, by the way, is in Pennsylvania this weekend. Okay. Alex, though, fell into a defensive crying mode, which, crying and laughter make my father angry, so I was the one who got in trouble. This, though, is a man who gets his hair cut at Wal-Mart, where they’ll accidentally shave off your sideburns, who would be content using cucumber melon hotel shampoo and handsoap as his only sanitary products for the rest of his life. So he didn’t understand my/Rachael’s plight to correct this situation. He ended up getting pissed off at me and Rachael for attempting to wash her Neopets for real (which, at this point, were probably growing some mutated fungus in the depths of their stuffing stomachs), getting pissed at Rachael for getting pissed at him, getting pissed at me for yelling at him for not supervising them and not caring that she’d wasted probably $30 worth of money on some joyride Neopet washing ceremony with her dumbest friend (I was out, so I couldn’t watch them/that friend is incorrigible, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything/why would he even let her have a sleepover when my mom’s not home and he doesn’t have the capacity to watch them?), and getting pissed at Alexa for crying, and then yelling at Alexa to go downstairs and finish her breakfast when she suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore–as if he cared about wasting food/money when he just let her get away with all that crap she did last night.
Yes, that’s what it would be like if I just lived with my father.
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