It was 2002. I was 22, lived in an apartment with my best friend, and later moved in with Nick. I had dropped out of college, but was waiting tables full-time to pay my bills. My little sister was 17, living at home and going to high school. My parents decided to go out of town for the weekend and left my sister at home. Afterall, she had never done anything wrong and would never follow in my foot steps. Well, it turns out that my sister had a party and drank all of my dad's special Canadian Club. I don't think I even stepped foot in their house that weekend. I mean, I had my own apartment to have parties in and my own liquor to drink. I don't even like whiskey, or really liquor.
I don't know when my dad finally noticed that his liquor was gone, but I certainly heard about it. That's right y'all. My dad blamed me for taking his liquor. I know that I shouldn't have cared, but when you've spent your entire childhood being in trouble for everything you can possibly imagine, you don't really want to be blamed for something you didn't do. Yay! First Born. Anyway, my sister would never admit to drinking the liquor and usually got really mad at me and demanded that I drop it. Uhm! Clue number one. Or really 4, because, clues 1-3 were the fact that I had my own apartment, my own income, and a dislike for whiskey. Anyway, this argument has gone on in my family for the last 6 years. Nick has sat through it at probably every Christmas dinner. I needed to be absolved.
This year for Christmas, my sister gave all of us the best gift ever. She bought my dad a bottle of Crown Royal with a note that said, "I drank your liqour." Finally. I think 5 minutes after I saw it she said, "ok, can we drop it now?"
I guess so.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment