�� Fighting day� So Irsquo;m probably going to sound like the typical misunderstood teenager, but I had to get this out.
�� Exceptionally, we were having a family lunch (itrsquo;s becoming a rare occurrence these days) when things started to get sour. We were discussing my brotherrsquo;s love life, gently teasing, when he said ldquo;I donrsquo;t French her a lotrdquo; (well, in French, it was ldquo;Je lui roule pas tout le temps des pellesrdquo;, which is pretty rude). He was joking of course but the joke was lost on our parents who started ranting on talking better in front of them and everything (even though they donrsquo;t talk much better themselves). It could have ended quickly if they had stopped once their point was made but noooo, thatrsquo;s not what they do. No, they keep going for hours and hours even if you say you understand, even if you say that it was just a joke. Though my brother and I donrsquo;t exactly have the best track record on getting along, I defended him for once, after he left the table upset. My parents were pretty pissed after that, complaining that they can never talk to him because hersquo;s either never at home or hersquo;s in his room in before his computer. Granted they have a point, he spent way too much time out of the house or on his computer, but I get why he doesnrsquo;t want to talk to them. Their definition of talking is pretty specific: it usually involves them telling us what we should do, or what wersquo;re doing wrong. Irsquo;ve never heard them asking him about what he does in class and hat he does with his friends. �����������Thatrsquo;s why he talks to me and not to them. But of course, when I try to explain this to them, they go on saying ldquo;donrsquo;t tell us how to raise our son, yoursquo;re only 23rdquo;, etc. Good going, keep treating me like a kid, I love it. That makes me want to spent so much time with them. If they actually paid attention, they would see how they hurt him sometimes. But whatever, I think theyrsquo;re in for a surprise when wersquo;ll get away from the house as soon as we get the chance.
��� Anyway, the afternoon ended on a better note with the three of us (my mom, my dad and myself) going for a short walk. We went to the woods but due to my momrsquo;s health, we had trouble coming back. We had to climb an ascending path (is that how I should say it? You know, a path tat goes up) but my mom had to go slowly because she gets tired easily and has trouble breathing. As usual, my dad was his pig-headed self, and a jerk. Nothing new.
Well, that felt good. At least I know that if they ever find this, they wonrsquo;t be able to read it, they canrsquo;t read or speak a word of English.
Chris.
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