At Antioch, Aunt's Abode

Today, I woke up in a most bad-tempered mood. The day ended in considerably higher spirits.

The car ride to Antioch, which suggested nothing but the most ordinary of family gatherings, was unable to rouse my spirits, grab my on the shoulders, and demand that I make the most of my day. I played my part perfectly well, the surly teenager with the nonchalant attitude. With headphones over my ears blasting JD Natasha (I recommend her album Imperfecta!) and a slouched posture, I managed to blot out everyone around me.

Upon arrival, I had to drag myself from the car and assume the role of the obedient son. It is a role filled with peril, one false step and my mother would feel compelled to loudly explain to everyone how this was his "true personality" and that everything else is him pretending to be good in front of others. All in one long sentence.

Obviously, no one likes criticism and I'm part of the rule, not the exception. I found my attitude grow even more churlish as I began to lash out at those around me. My first victim was convicted of talking too loudly and too much. My second victim had a gambling problem. My third victim squandered life on Facebook.

What changed me that day was something unexpected. Something annoying: my brother. Seeing him play with my aunt's dog was eye-opening. I saw some sort of passion seize him and made him determined that "Bobby" would become his best friend.

Through throwing a bottle to play fetch, feeding him chicken jerky from his hand, and too many shouts of "Bobby, bobby" in this childish yet caring tone, he became friends with the dog. In too many descriptions and details for my post, Bobby and my brother reminded me that happiness and fun can be found in the most unexpected and boring of places, with each other.

Thank you.