Here is something that happened to me today that I'm sure you don't care about at all.
This morning I woke up at 10:27 to the phone ringing. The phone in my room is horribly shrill and the song that it plays is extremely annoying. I did not answer. Instead I rolled over and covered my ears and waited for it to stop, hoping that I would be able to fall asleep again once it was quiet. But then at 10:30 the alarm on my cell phone ("Glad" by Tyler Hilton) went off. So I growned loudly and got up out of bed to turn it off. Then I checked the caller id on the house phone: my mother. When I called her back, she said, "I just wanted to make sure you were awake." When I informed her that I had set my alarm for 10:30 with the precise goal of awaking at exactly 10:30, and that rather than rising to the peaceful song that is my alarm, I was roused by the annoying ringing of the phone, she said, "well, I thought you would have set your alarm for 10 o'clock."
Then I went downstairs and made myself breakfast. While I was eating and perusing my copy of this week's
Entertainment Weekly, my dad arrived home. I said "hi" and he said "yeah" and then he disappeared into his office. So I finished my breakfast and went upstairs and lolled about for a few hours. At noon my mom called and asked me if I wanted her to bring me anything for lunch. I said yes, and then I took a shower.
When I got out of the shower, I went downstairs, where I found my little sister and her friend sitting at the kitchen table. "We sorta ate all the french fries," my sadistic little sister announced, smiling. And for some reason - maybe I didn't get enough sleep, I don't know - I was mad. I was really really really mad. I went upstairs to tell my mom and all she did was shrug at me. When I got back to the kitchen, my sister and her friend had disappeared, and my lunch, which consisted of precisely 4 chicken nuggets, was sitting on a plate in the center of the kitchen table, where it had been for probably at least a half hour.
See, here's the thing about my house. My dog is a rabid monster. You can't leave something on the kitchen table unless you want to lose it to Gracie's stomach. You have to push your plate back when you get up from the table and you can't put anything too close to the edge. If you turn away for even a second, it's hers.
So my lunch was cold. I put it in the microwave for a few seconds while I scrounged around the fridge for some ranch dressing. I'm very picky about the way I eat chicken nuggets, and I wondered why my mom had brought my barbecue sauce but not ranch dressing, but I decided she must have just forgot. I ate my chicken nuggets and cleaned up the trash that my sister left behind and then I left the kitchen.
And then on the way up the stairs I discovered the missing ranch dressing container, on the floor near the living room, licked clean of all its contents by Gracie, who sat nearby, tail wagging. My father, as you can imagine, was extremely, well, pissed off. He called my sister downstairs and yelled at her for a minute or so before she got all defensive because that's her nature, and then he ran all over the house searching for any sign of the ranch dressing before determining that Gracie had really ingested all of it.
My mom told me that she'd make my lack of lunch up to me. So she went to Target and bought me a Three Musketeers bar and wouldn't let my sister have one. But for the moment my sister and I are not friends anymore. Yes, I'm being petty and childlike, but I wanted those french fries. (Although I forgot I was mad at her over dinner and spoke to her like nothing had happened. A true mistake on my part.)
But she just came in to my room and gave me chocolate. We might be friends again.
