My Family (Oh boy)

(If you personally know me, you know how “dank” my family is. My friends legit call my dad “The Meme Lord” okay.)

My family is made up of my mom, dad, little sister, my two cats, and me. My mom has you own accounting business and she works from our house. This one time we went to Indianapolis for a weekend and we spend the night at a REALLY fancy hotel right next to the beautiful Soldiers’ and Sailors’ monument. The building used to be an old bank at one point and it has golden elevators and dark wooden floors and a huge fireplace. We walked up to the front desk looking totally out of place and the lady in her pink blazer said, “Ah Mrs. Brock, your secretary called.” Um, yeah, we don’t have a secretary or even employees for that matter. It was my mother. MY MOM CALLED IN. I looked at my mother in awe and said, without thinking, “We have a secretary?” I never watched someone loose the color of their blush so fast in my life. Our room was on the top floor. It wasn’t that big but the height of it made up for that. Two out of the four walls were just giant windows. It was so cool let me tell you. At night it felt like I was high fiving the frozen lady on top of the monument and I just love the feeling of being in any city at night. I felt like a main character in an anime if that helps any.

My dad works at Honda (like everybody else that lives in Ohio). My dad is also a First Responder, which that makes up for the such mainstream job that he has. At his work they have to wear hard hats because, hello, it’s the 21st century. So one day, this dude was messing with this one chick at the ensembly line. He took off her hat and showed her long tied up hair. I guess long hair is the machines favorite meal to eat. This machine sweeped her out under her feet and was dangling her in the air. They had to shut every thing down on the plant for the fear that the machine would scalp her. Now that everything was no longer in motion they still had to get her down. And guess who they picked for that job. You guessed it, my father. My dad had to climb up in this machine to free this lady but first, he needed to calm her down because the danger of the scalping could still be a threat. He got all the way up there and looked at the lady and drew a blank. What the heck do you say to someone that is physical caught in a machine and might lose a lot of blood if they don’t calm down?! He looked at her for a long time and finally said, “What did you have for lunch?” My father ladies and gentlemen. Needless to say, we all know what she has for lunch everyday.

My sister Kendall is a spitting image of me. Maybe just a little bit more outgoing than I am. I’m really glad that me and her have to same ideas and enjoy the same things. I know some of my friends have nothing in common with their siblings and I see how hard it is to have a fun relationship with them. Me and my sister rant about video games together, watch TV shows together like Friends and RuPaul’s Drag Race, talk about our favorite books, debate on ancient history, shop for clothes and makeup together even though we have different tastes, fangirl over our favorite Youtubers, and make a mess together. Me and her also never fight. When we do it’s nothing ever serious, we usually laugh about it at the end of it. She is like my bestfriend. I’m thankful that she is my sister. (Even though she can be a butt head sometimes.)

Now, for the two little kitty kats. Their names are Roman (oldest) and Jackson (youngest). Roman is a Mr. Scaredy Cat. If you sneeze you won’t see him for 30 minutes because he will be hidding. Last night I was putting up my Tomb Raider, Fallout, and Skyrim posters (because I’m cool obvi.) and I had a step stool that only has two steps. I was on the top step and Roman started freaking out. He was crying and screaming and all that but, I just had to put up the poster of the Map of Skyrim on my wall. I mean, it was free! I got down and picked Mr. Man up and plopped him down on my dad’s lap and said, “I think the cat is broken.” Jackson is totally different than Roman. He is not scared of anything. You could physically step on him and he won’t do anything. He is actually a punk. He likes to bully Roman and steal his food.

Oh and my family is Roman Catholic and German af.


One Comment Add yours

  1. Pat says:

    What a great family! And a creative writer!


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