These Harder Days
Once, seemingly to my mind long ago, for truly it was nearly eleven years ago now, I reminisce of how simplistic everything was surrounding my birthday. There were no hassles of trying to compare schedules with my friends and select a time when every person could be together. There was no bother of having to clean my room and spend hours on the phone negotiating with families of friends or any other of the hassles that surround me now.
Once upon a time things were simple, parents fought such things as these out between themselves. Once upon a time, parents knew everyone you ever saw and you knew no one whom they did not. Once, long ago parents spent more than twenty dollars on your birthday too though... Now a' days those kinds of things are definitely long gone. After fifth grade, reality kicks in and there went simplicity, literally, out the window (usually, in my case, in the form of an airborne object meant to hit me).
Me And My Parents
English: A child's birthday celebration
Communist Party rallyMy mom knows very few of my friends and in most instances I would love to keep it that way. Letting my friends come to my house, especially my "guy-friends" is social suicide. Anyone that comes onto this property is fair game for a scrutinizing inspection from my dad. That is the solely worse thing that can happen to any teenager. One of my worst nightmares consists of a particular one of my friends having an encounter of the third kind with my dad. Those are the kind of nightmares that make you wake up in the middle of the night screaming louder than is supposedly humanly possible, literally glowing red with humiliation. You want to talk about "uncomfortable with the present," I know exactly what I am...