So... here I am wanting to go to the book store that my parents promised me, and I get a call from my mom's friend wondering if I can help out with her son's seventh birthday.
[I've know him since he was born]
and I said I wouldn't mind. Being stuck with seven little six-seven year olds isn't bad, unless each one thinks you're their personal playground, not excatly important, won't listen to a word you say, type of kid... then it's bad.
Then my mom's friend says she needs to get stuff back to her husband and finds a call phone from this b***h Drewlin.
Trust me, she's about nineteen, and has already ruined some of my mother's life, my mom's friend's family, and a whole lotta people.
Amy was shaking from anger... I've never seen her so mad.... >x>
So when I'm suppose to be home at four, turns out I get home at nine... all I want to do is ask Dusty how is weekend his, and bed... <sighs>
 ivintages · Sun Mar 18, 2007 @ 06:01am · 0 Comments |
