My family is…unique.  And not in the way that would be fodder for a hilarious sitcom.  *sigh*  I know I will have to eventually broach this topic here, just in case someone (other than LB) ever finds me hidden here in the internets.  But I’m not up for the whole enchilada today.  I was sick this weekend and laid on the couch with a fever yesterday and watched way too much TV.  (So go easy on me and don’t judge.)

So as I’m in my sick, staring at the TV hazily, avoiding thinking about the impending Holiday, I receive this text from my sister, Bubbles.  (Yes, she hates the nickname, but it stays.  I’m an evil Big Sister like that, just ask Mr. Beans, my brother.)

Preface:  My sister is 21.  She came to visit me for the first time ever. I haven’t lived at home in 10 years.  She wore pants, makeup, danced with boys, and consumed a few adult beverages.  My parents are extremely religious and are certain I’ve coerced her to participate in said debauchery.  Long story short, the crown of Black Sheep remains firmly in my possession.

Bubbles:  Well, I cant wait 4 u to come but expect passive [aggressive] anger from mom and dad.  and whatever u do dont say anything about my weekend there or about coming 2 visit u again.  (My sister is one of those annoying texters…or maybe I am who writes full sentences, words and uses punctuation.)

V:  Bubbles, do you think I’m an armature at this? haha

Bubbles:  no just making sure cause dad is sure u going 2 say I need 2 come 4 new years or something.  they just fucking piss me off. (excuse the language)

V:  Oh the things they come up with.  I’m not nearly as sneaky, devious or evil as they give me credit for

Bubbles:  I dont know I dont even know what 2 think about them anymore.  no matter how many times I tell them i was the one that wanted 2 get tipsy they want me to say u made me.

V:  Eh, it’s my role in the family.  I don’t know if they can see it differently.  Don’t stress about it or let it get to you.  Their issues is with me and I’ll run back out the door in a little over 24 hours with minimal damage.

At which point, my cold-addled brain decides to bring to light the fact that I can’t remember the last time my parents said anything positive to or about me.

I wonder if I can sneak one of these into my family’s teetotaling Thanksgiving extravaganza.