Rehearsal:
Well thanks a lot, grandparents.
Two minutes before you guys went to bed last night you told me I was supposed to be up at 9 AM to help clean the house in preparation for lunch with complete strangers (to me at least) who also happen to be missionaries or something. As far as I know.
You fail to wake me up at 9 AM. I was up late last night anyway because I couldn't sleep because I slept in late
yesterday since I went to a midnight showing of The Dark Knight. I stumble out at 10:30, attempt to help with some things sleepily, and then learn that you managed to buy every food that I hate all at once for the lunch so I'm going to look like a picky little brat in front of these people. Then said guests arrive at 11:00 when we were expecting them at
noon.
I hate potato salad. You know this. It makes me ill- no, seriously. I get sick to my stomach. That's why I hate it. You've known this since I was old enough to talk. Don't look at me like this is some huge shock.
But then again, you still think I enjoy nasty old canned green beans, so I guess this shouldn't come as some huge shock for me, either.
Ugh!
I haven't had a shower or brushed my teeth, Mom hasn't had a shower, we're both pissed at you and this is going to be extremely unpleasant for the both of us because
you didn't friggin' tell us about this. It's our house too and if you want us to join you, give us a heads-up more than like twelve hours before something happens!
I had plans today!