The Spanish Bad Ass

Chapter Twenty six: Is that a punching bag?

"Well... well... well... someone finally remembered her old man today." The gruff voice resounded.

I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face and through my hair as I gave my father a look.

"Pa don't be that way," I said in an exasperated tone. I had been so busy... now that I think about it I don't know what I was so busy doing I guess had just gotten carried away and hadn't called him in weeks and now he's trying to insinuate I didn't love him... *scoffs*  desperate much.

As if reading my thoughts he let out a deep hearty laugh and was just about to say something when another little face came into view on the screen causing my heart to melt.

"Daddy who are you- SIERRA IS THAT YOU?!" Mateo my little brother screamed giving me a toothy grin which made me smile back.

"Oh I've missed you so much, when are you coming back... oh I can't wait to see you." His face was so close to the screen now I couldn't even see him clearly. *Pause.* "Your room looks so cool." What can I say the boy had more of my genes than anyone else's plus he generally had good taste. He gasped in disbelief his eyes widening by the minute. "And-"

"Is that a punching bag?" The cold voice pierced in interrupting and at the same time finishing what he was about to ask. My father looked up in the direction of the voice and facepalmed preparing for what was to come but and oblivious Mateo looked up and bounced up and down clapping his hands and beaming from the person to me.

"Ramona..." I said dragging out her name. "It's nice to see you too," I said with a sigh also face-palming preparing for the inevitable.

She glared at me for a while her eyes a mixture of anger and disbelief and somewhere in between disgust and in 3,2-

"Dad no fair you never let me have one of those and Sierra moves to Canada for not more than a few weeks and all of a sudden she's allowed to have one." She yelled throwing her hands about and starting to throw a tantrum, a very unnecessary one if I may add.

"Ramona sweetie..." my dad tried reasoning calmly looking at me for some kind of support but I just raised my hand mouthing him to not look at me but it was useless.

"This is unbelievable... utterly unbelievable all these years I've been asking and begging and pleading for it and this little thwart can just get it. I can't believe you and to think that..."

This was definitely going to be a long and tiring face time.

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After my dad had gotten Mateo out of hearing distance because Ramona had said some really ear prickling words. He had managed to get her relatively calm and for peace to rain promised that she could get one but it had to be with her own money.

That immediately killed that dream as she walked away with an eye roll saying she had more important things to do with her money than buy some dumb punching bag.

So you see Ramona never actually wanted one she just wanted to use it to look cool in front of her friends. She never had the strength or time to use it in fact if she ever did get one she'd just take pictures in front of it or pictures to make it look like she was punching it so she could look tough but except for that, it would just gather dust.

My dad obviously knew this which was why he never agreed to buy one for her but she had been persistent and my father had also stood his ground and after a long time of constant bickering she'd eventually grown tired and given up but seeing one in my room sparked that flame all over again.

But when she was given that ultimatum she snapped out of it. I'm sure you probably don't know this but punching bags cost a fortune and the only time you were actually on normal terms supposed to own one was if you're a professional boxer, wrestler, or in my case, you had severe anger management issues and if you were to take out you're anger on a human being instead of a punching bag... you'd start to see jail as more of a motel or a second home even.