The Safety Pin Affair

f o u r - that doesn't sound too good

she's gotta be something
new to me, loose ends but
no sight of s t r i n g s . . .

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Two days later, it's Sunday and the tradition of my family cooking whatever my mother plans out still lives on. There may have been only a handful of Sunday's where we haven't done this. My mom thinks it's great "family bonding time", while my dad just likes to eat the food. But of course he gets his way later on towards the end of the night, when we reflect on the past week we've had.

Sometimes I feel like I'm on an episode of Full House, but with less family members and even more cheesy moments, if that's possible.

After my homework and cleaning my room, my parents and I prepared our dinner for the remainder of the day. On today's menu, it was chili lime chicken tacos, grilled veggies and a fresh lemon sorbet for dessert. It took a majority of the day like always, but it's worth it in the end because the meals tend to come out perfect with the help of my mom's gift.

So by now, the sun has gone down and we're all settled in the living room watching Sunday night television. We're all eating the lemon sorbet that we made just hours ago, indulging in the dessert and sharing our feelings.

"Some followers of mine have been asking if I'm ever going to make, like... t-shirts or something for my blog. What do you guys think?" My mom asked my dad and I.

I shrugged, shoving a spoonful of sorbet into my mouth. "What would they look like?" I said through a mouthful.

"Well, I've been talking to my web designer and getting some ideas together. We're thinking along the lines of something baby blue and cream because that's the theme of my site. Then maybe my logo and some catchy slogan," she suggested.

My dad nodded approvingly with a smile. "That sounds like a great start," he said, and I nodded too.

"Alright, enough about me. I feel like I've been talking about my week for three hours," my mom chuckled. "Vicky, anything interesting happen this week?"

I paused for a moment to think about the past week I've had and downed some more sorbet at an inhumane pace. I just shrugged and stared at my parents who are obviously eager to hear about my life.

"Nothing?" My dad pressed.

"My weeks are all pretty much the same. I go to school, babysit Gracie, and go out with Blair and Matt on the weekends," I said simply, shrugging again.

My dad sighed and my mom laughed, shaking her head.

"Well, there was one thing interesting that happened on Friday night," I decided to bring something up so they would stop pestering me. "I was talking to some kid about The Beatles at Rick's house."

"Some kid?" My mom mimicked my words slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"A boy, Mom. I was talking to a boy," I clarified.

She gasped loudly, looking over to my dad with a grin. "A boy?! Someone of the opposite sex that's not Blair's boyfriend?" She teased.

"Mom," I groaned, sinking into the couch cushions. This is why I hate Sunday nights.

Then she spewed out a million questions while my dad stared at me with a smile and a psychiatric look in his eyes.