Mom,
Dad and June went to a barbecue at Aunt Tillie’s this morning. They wanted me
to come with, of course, but I told them no way was I going to spend my Sunday
at some boring barbecue with mom and her old sisters and dad reading his
newspaper and poor June watching the grass grow like it’s the most exciting
film going. No thank you. As I lay here listening to Bobby King, I know I made
the right choice. This is freedom. Rock and Roll speaks to my soul. By the way,
you should have seeeen the outfit June wore to the barbecue. It looked like she
had never even heard of a barbecue before! Poor old June.
Bobby King is so great. Just hearing his voice blasting
in my room brings life to this bland house. I wish I could blast Bobby King
sometime while my mom was nagging at me, just to drown out her voice. I think I
might lay out and tan in a bit. I love my alone time. Is it bad that part of me
really wishes mom, dad and June would just never come home? That they would all
disappear. Go off in an endless spree of boring barbecues and leave
me here alone forever…
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