Lazy Day

It;s cold and snowing outside, and I have put on my hoodie and weekend socks for the day. My feet are warm and so is my torso, and I begin my lazy day. I plug in my phone to my alarm clock and play an audiobook. I feel pretty dorky, but I really don't care. I want to finish the huge cross stitch I started at the beginning of this summer, and listening to an audiobook and doing it in bed is the best way for the time to pass quickly. I have to stop at noon, when I will eat lunch and then do homework. It's quiet in my room, and the dog is leaving me alone, and I am peaceful and content. I have gotten the majority of this color done, and I look at the clock and it's twelve thirty. I've been cross stitching for three hours. Oops.

Fair

It has been a while since anyone has been unfair to me, and so I really don't have any memories of unfairness. The truth is that I have never really cared. For every bigger version of something I c . ould select, I chose the one that hadn't been chosen. The thing I realized when I was about ten was that the world wasn't fair, and that caring only caused more difficulty.

I think that before I was ten I was just big, fast, and strong enough to get the smaller, slower, and weaker kids out of my way, and I always got more and so everything was fair to me. I also have no siblings, and so everyone in my house was, to me, my equal. When I first saw my mom cry, I recognized that she was human and our family was fair.

Thanksgiving

"Mister cat...," Bami's voice trails off as she enthusiastically combs the tiny nursing home apartment for the angry, disagreeable, and biting cat. "Oh well. Shall we start eating?" We all nod, and awkwardly sit there, silently trying to determine who will make a plate for GG, my great grandmother. We all stand up, and immediately find a room with exactly five chairs and no floorspace to be much too small for all of us. My parents quietly slide to one side of the buffet table, and Bami and I slide to the other. I already know that half of this food will be amazing, and half of it will be either terrible, or tastes like a different food from what it is.

Dinner is delicious. GG surprised us with the most delicious cranberry sauce I have ever had, and I made pies that were my best yet. GG complemented my pies, and I was proud, because she pretends to hate everything. She might not even be pretending most of the time.