Every year when it gets hot enough I make an attempt at tanning myself. For the second day in a row, I ventured off to the backyard in a pair of short shorts with a book in a vain attempt of trying to give my pale legs a little colour. And every year I fail to use sunscreen, explains why my legs are currently bright as lobsters and why the skin on my upper arm is probably going to start peeling off tomorrow.
Anyway, today my mom decided to call in sick because she couldn't sleep the night before (due to a fight with Matt that ended with a hole on the wall, more on this later). She was working in the kitchen when she saw me tanning away in the backyard and decided to bother me a little by demanding that we pull those nasty weeds out together. After much grumbling on my part, there we were pulling out weeds when all the sudden my mom screams and says, "THERE'S A DEAD RAT SWIMMING!"
I looked over at the bucket she was pointing at and there it was, swimming on it's side for who knows how long now, flies buzzing over it and everything. It was disgusting. I don't care how she's going to deal with that but I'm not going anywhere near it.
Actually, the dead rat swimming in black water explains a lot. Last summer when my mom set the stove on fire and called the fire department to put it out, the firemen decided to discard the offending stove by dumping it in the backyard. Unfortunately, the sliding door to the backyard was too small and they had to unhinge it in order to shove the stove in the backyard where it would then rust in peace. Ever since then the sliding door to the backyard has been broken and ajar, which means that insects, especially flies that loomed over a certain dead rat, could easily fly in the house. As disgusting as it sounds, it explains everything. And this also means that Henry's no longer to blame, hurrah. (My mom accused Henry all along)
That was probably the most exciting moment of my life for the past few days.
Tonight after helping my mom do this:
(I painted the butterflies, it's really ugly, I know.)
We watched It's Complicated together. She hated it, probably because the characters are closer to her age than she would like to admit, but I liked it. I didn't like the adultery aspect of the movie, since any kind of adultery is never good, but I liked the homey aspect of the movie. It was really nice how Maryl Streep's character is such a home maker and makes everyone feel at home in her kitchen. Is it weird that I want my kitchen to be EXACTLY like Maryl Streep's kitchen in that movie? Now only if I could cook.
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