Bookworm

Robot kids. . .

My father was so pissy today. Lauren, my younger sister, came
into my room looking for the scissors. I told her they
weren't in here (they were actually, but I didn't know that
at the time) and told her to get out, yet she stayed in
here for about two minutes staring at the walls or
something. I yelled at her to get out numerous times, then
my dad comes stomping in. 'Don't yell at her! She can come
into your room sometimes!'
'I was doing my HOMEWORK,' I reply testily. It's true; I
get very bitchy when someone interrupts my homework.
'Well, you don't have to act so vicious!'

Later this evening, Lauren comes back into my room, without
knocking, as usual. 'What does a persimmon taste like?'
WTF? I've only had one my entire life, and it was like two
years ago; how the hell am I supposed to remember? I'm
quiet for a moment, thinking, and the bastard comes up
behind Lauren. 'Answer her question!'
'I'm THINKING. I know it's a foreign concept to you, so
excuse me.' (Didn't say the last part, obviously)
'Well?' Lauren asks.
'I don't remember.'
'I said, TELL HER.'
'And I said, I don't remember. My God.'
'You've got to learn how to treat your little sister with a
little respect, or I'll start treating you without respect.'(What,
you don't already?)
God almighty, he fucking pisses me off. The way he bosses
me around, he might as well hook me up to a remote control.
There'd be four buttons on it: 'Answer Lauren's
questions', 'Clean room', 'Do dishes', 'Attend to any whim I might
have'. Bastard.