Not funny one this post, don't read.
So I'm gonna type something real boring but you will read it anyway because you have nothing do as well.
Couple hours ago, Jo, Ben, (they came home after a few hours I did the "Jess is lonely" post) cousin Kit and I was up playing poker. As usual, when someone is winning all the money after about 10 rounds we all start grabbing each other poker chips (scrabble pieces), then throwing them all over the floor and announce that we should start all over again.
Usually I would LOVE PLAYING!
But not this time.
Because THEY WERE PLAYING IN MY ROOM!
But thank God this time we didn't use groundnuts (the one with shells still intact) as poker chips. Because Ben will start eating them and we will end up using the shells as poker chips and still finish the game by throwing it all over the floor.
It was in Jo's room that time and that week her hair looks filled with dandruff because of the flaky peanut skin.
Now I'm being emo and nostalgic on whether things will remain the same way. Whether Ben and Jo will still come home and play with me every holiday, whether our holidays will be during the same period, whether we can still laugh ourselves silly and conspire together to bully cousin Kit and get to watch him cry, if we're lucky.
We despise guests invading our territory.
And if any of our guest starts smoking in the house we immediately exclaimed "WAH WHAT IS THAT SO SMELLY IMMA FAINT SOON PLEASE CATCH ME!!"
We did the same thing when one of our uncles came to sell perfume to our parents.
Although we enjoy making each other cry then videotape the crying person and load it on the computer and laugh at the cry baby for many, many, many years, we stand united when strangers surface.
I don't feel giggly, sarcastic nor funny.
I choose to blame this on Marie Digby.
Some songs are meant to make you sad.
wtf this post so anticlimax