Cars And Other Oldest Child Problems

Hey. I don’t thing I mentioned this, but a few months ago, I got my driving permit. I’ve decided not to take Driver’s Ed (I’m not required to as I’m eighteen) because the cost of the actual classes would amount to more than the discount on insurance I would receive. Anyway, I’ve been driving my dad’s old Honda Fit around. When he bought his new truck, he didn’t trade in the Honda because I was going to start driving soon. Well, I was talking to my mom about something (I don’t remember what) when it was brought up that when I move out, I’m going to have to buy another car so my brother can drive the Fit.

First, let me just say that I kinda get where she’s coming from. They already have a car for my brother to learn to drive in. However, as my little sister is five years younger than my brother, it’s not like she’ll be driving anytime soon after he is. Meaning he most likely won’t have to buy another car when he moves out since he’ll probably get to just take the Fit with him. So basically, just because I’m the oldest child, I’m going to have to buy my own car.

It’s freaking ridiculous. If anything, it should be the other way around, since I’m the oldest. I’d also say that my parents should save it for my other two little siblings to drive, since that makes sense, even though they’re five and seven years younger than my brother, but my parents will probably be like, “well, Amanda’s still five years away, why shouldn’t Roman keep the car” because they pull stuff like that all the time. I kinda feel like a brat for complaining, so let me reiterate: I’m not complaining about me not being able to keep the Honda, I’m upset that my brother most likely will be allowed to keep it just because there is a larger age gap between him and the next kid to start driving.

This is just one more annoyance to add the my ongoing mental “Oldest Child Problems” list. I get really pissed off when my little siblings complain about not being the oldest child, because seriously, I get not being able to do everything your older sibling can do, because I was always wicked close to my cousin who’s older than me by a few years, but when you’re siblings, there’s really not a lot that the parents don’t allow the slightly younger sibling to do if the older sibling can. Pretty much anything I’m allowed to do, so can my brother, and it’s always been that was, unless it was like a legal issue or something, like driving before you’re sixteen. When I first started sitting in the front seat, I was forced to take turns with my brother, even though I’m two years older than him and he has always been underweight. When I was allowed to ride my bike alone, so could Roman. When I got the new Gameboy, so did he. We always had the same bedtime, except for now, because I’m eighteen and no longer in school while he has to be in bed by 10:30 on school nights. However, he rarely, if ever, follows this rule, and it’s really not enforced by my parents. When I still had a bedtime, if it were even five minute past and I wasn’t in bed yet, I would be in trouble.

I’m just baffled by the blatant differences in my parents’ treatment of my siblings versus me. I don’t understand how it can be so much different. I get that we’re all different and thus should be reprimanded differently and treated differently in different situations, but to an extent. My sister is eleven, and I know for a fact that when I was ten, I was folding laundry, because I accidentally said “crap” in front of my mom while switching it over once (and my siblings say crap and worse all the time and are mostly just left alone or given a minor slap on the wrist). My sister has no chores at all except for sometimes bringing the hamper down to the laundry room, sometimes cleaning the bunny’s cage, and very rarely scooping the cat litter (not even changing it, just scooping). AJ is nine and has no chores at all. He doesn’t even have to clear his own plate from the table (neither does Amanda).

I guess I just don’t understand why there’s such a huge difference. Am I the only one who feels this way? Let me know in the comments.

Okay, I’ve gotta go. It’s Camp NaNoWriMo, and I have to get writing. Bye!

-Sam

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My Annoying, Manipulative, Conniving Little Sister

Hey. I’m back, hopefully for good this time. I’ve been neglecting this for well over a year now, and I’ve come to realize just how soothing it really is to post all of my shit here. God, where do I even start…?

Well, I suppose I’ll start with right now. My fucking sister, Amanda. She’s nine now. I’ve never been anywhere near as fucking pissed off at her as I am at this moment and have been recently. My mom brought my two brothers to football practice, where my dad already was, so me and Amanda were gonna stay home alone. She was to do her homework and I was to do mine. Okay, sure. Fair enough. Right?

Yeah, well, literally the second my mom closes the front door, Amanda starts being bitchy. Her new ploy to get me in trouble is to pretty much make up a whole fucking argument with me in her head, where she’s actually yelling at me in real life but I’m still SILENTLY SITTING IN THE FUCKING RECLINER WHILE TYPING MY HOMEWORK. Remember, my mom hasn’t even been out of the house for a fucking minute yet. So I turn to look at her and say simply, “Do your homework.” I’m actually quite proud of myself for keeping myself so calm.

Anyways, she does that fucking little pretend gasp thing that you really only see the shallow, bitchy girl in all those stupid Disney movies do. “That’s it, I’M telling MOM!” So my sister seriously fucking sprints to the front door, rips it open, and runs out after my mom (who isn’t even in her fucking car yet!!), screaming how I’m already yelling at her and telling her to shut up.

Excuse me?!

Naturally, my mom believes the little conniving nine-year-old over her eldest, seventeen-year-old daughter who was left in charge and hadn’t moved an inch since she walked out the door. I hear her yell my name – “Samantha Rose Murphy, get out here right now!” – and I go over to the door just in time to get yelled at about how I better not give Amanda any crap and to just leave her alone. After about five or ten “OKAY, Mom!”s, my sister and I are back inside again and my mom gets in her car and drives away.

I tell Amanda, “Okay, you heard Mom, start getting that homework done.” What does she say to me in return, you ask? Why, a fierce “shut up!” of course. Taking a deep breath to try and keep my cool (which is definitely starting to slip by now), I say to her something along the lines of, enough with the attitude, I’m the babysitter, I’m in charge, just do your homework so I can leave you alone. “Don’t make me call Mom!” she threatens, and I’m almost unable to stop myself from laughing, but luckily I hold it in, telling her to go ahead, try it, before turning back to my computer.

She proceeds to search the house for the next five minutes, looking for one of our house phones. When she finds it, she calls my mom’s cell. The first time, she leaves a message, and is (no joke) in the middle of telling the answering machine how I screamed at her to shut up and how I’m just being a big jerk to her. I call over very, very calmly and tell her to stop making up stories. She SCREAMS at me “SHUT UP!!!!” while still talking to the answering machine and starts screaming/crying. You know, that screeching kids do when they’re trying to fake sob? Yeah, that.

She then redials my mom’s number. This time, my mom picks up. Amanda goes straight into her act, telling my mom, “Mooooooommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy, Sammi’s being a big jerk! She’s yelling at me and calling me names and telling me to shut up!”

Which, might I remind you, is a total, 100% lie. Seriously. I am NOT making this up. Honestly? I wish I were….

My mom tells her to “put your sister on the phone right now!” Already having another handheld right next to me, I press talk and tell Amanda to hang up since I’m on with the other phone. Naturally, she yells “NO!” and of course my mom doesn’t care. She goes right into shouting at me to take my stuff and get into my room and don’t interact with Amanda and just leave her alone. I will admit that I reached my limit during this “conversation” (more like sentencing!) and snapped. I yelled at my mom over the phone, “She’s lying! Really, Mom, I’ve literally done nothing except tell her to do her homework and not be a little brat to me!”

My mom ends up screaming back at me, “I DON’T CARE, JUST GET INTO YOUR ROOM, AND IF I GET ANOTHER CALL I’M COMING BACK TO GET HER AND THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!!!” Of course, we exchange more than just that summarization, but you get the point. I hang up and proceed to my room where I very gently close the door so I don’t accidentally slam it in my anger.

Anyways, about ten, fifteen minutes later, my mom bangs on my door. I’m super confused and ask her “why are you here, you said you weren’t gonna get her unless there was another problem?” to which she responds “maybe just think about it!” Very meanly, might I add. She then proceeds to yell in my face (literally – her toes were touching mine) to make sure I shower, do the dishes, and send my homework to her (because God forbid I actually send it to just my teacher, right? Nooooooo, cuz I would totally be lying about that unless she fucking sees it which is stupid because she’s so fucking technologically inept I get in trouble because she doesn’t know how to fucking open and view my work anyways!!). She then wordlessly turns and slams the front door on her way out, refusing to acknowledge me asking “what the hell just happened?!?!” Of course, I don’t ask like that since I don’t swear at all in front of her, but still.

And so is the story of my life. I wish I could say this is a rare, even isolated occurrence, but, alas, it is not. Not even close. I have to deal with this shit every single day! Sometimes I’m actually stumped how I haven’t literally exploded and how my guts don’t cover the walls of my house yet.

I’ll try to start doing the whole blog thing regularly again. Like, I said, I miss you guys. Later.

-Sam

P.S. Oh yeah, and on top of everything else, I’ve been sick since early Friday morning. Yeah, like I even have the fucking energy to be a fucking asshole to you, Amanda….