Sunday, September 7, 2003

I quickly type up this.

When I came home from Ryan's house, I was told that we were going to eat at The Speedway restaurant in Mandan. I said fine, I did not care.

The restaurant is okay. The thing that is really horrible about it is the service. They have about two waiters working to a room full of people. It doesn't work, of course.

On the way there my brother was complaining about having to go eat there.

"Red Lobster is so much better," he'd say, and other things. My Dad would just stare ahead, his unshaven face bobbling like a balloon as he stared outside of his windshield and drove.

At the time I wasn't feeling too well at all. I had only eaten about five cookies and a bowl of Honeycomb cereal in the morning.

I'd also taken my brother swimming, more or less forced.

At the swimming pool I kept going under the water, and swimming back and forth to the beginning and to the end sides of the pool until I was exhausted and my face felt hot and my lungs felt like they were going to burst. A lot of the time I'd push myself even harder as I was nearly suffocating more and more. It felt kind of good though.

That and not eating food had tired me out quite a lot. I was in one my really quiet, somewhat depressive moods. I was just drained. It felt like everything was passing onward and that I'd just faint before it all caught back to me.

When I mumbled under my breath nearly that Steak Buffet sounded a lot better right then, my Dad turned and yelled at me. I just looked at him, saying, "I wasn't complaining. I was just saying that I'm hungry and I know the service is slow at this place. Why are you yelling at me when Kellan's been complaining the entire time there?"

But I already knew why. It's just the way things usually went. I was older, and therefore I was supposed to keep quiet and not say one thing. Not to cause any disrespect. It was unfair but I have been living with it as long as I can remember.

When we got there, I sat down and waited for us to get a table. Once we were set down, my parents and my brother began talking. I just put my head down for a while, and when I did sit up I was pretty lifeless and quiet.

My brother kept drawing his attention to me.

Recently he had gotten his Playstation 2 taken away, along with his recently bought Grand Theft Auto Vice City game. He was inevitably blaming me as the one who had gotten it taken away.

He kept grinning and laughing and staring at me.

My mom asked my why I was so friendly sarcastically, and I just made noise from my throat. Then she asked me what I did today. "Nothing," I said.

Then she got all mad and said she couldn't take this anymore, and left for a while. Then my Dad yelled at me, saying I shouldn't be so disrespectful.

I continued to say nothing.

My Mom returned, they began to talk more. Then my brother came in with one of his wonderful catch phrases. "I know why Mitch isn't talking!" he proclaimed proudly.

He paused for effect, then, "Because he has too many zits on his face!"

My Mom bowed her head comically, and I just laughed at my brother.

More time passed, more of my brother saying random things to me. Then we finally got our food.

I had ordered a cheeseburger. I cut it in half, and then put loads of ketchup on each bun, then loads of ketchup in a puddle on my plate.

Then I ate my hamburger like I always had. I dipped it deeply into the puddle of ketchup, then ate it. I was done nearly as quickly as I had begun, and then I took my brother's hamburger, which was too crispy for him, so he had ordered a new one.

After that I ate my fries, and then my parents started in on my again.

"You're so immature for your age," he said, after thinking near the same of Kellan. He rolled his eyes as he said it, like it was as sure as anything.

"You are," my Mom said as well. Then they told me that they shouldn't have to tell me to clean my room daily, and other things. I just took it.

Then my Mom said that when she had walked into my room last night that it had smelled horrible. That she had almost fainted.

"You know that bag of popcorn he had in his room? That was a week old. That was what had been smelling," was my Dad's response.

My Mom also said that it smelled all sweaty and that it smelled like male hormones in my room. I just took that as well. Perhaps it does, I mean I am a guy, aren't I?

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, my brother asked "what breast feeding is."

I laughed, and my parents explained.

Then my Dad brought up that earlier as they were at the mall and Kellan had gotten a pretzel that Kellan had pointed to a girl sitting, proclaiming, "Look Dad! You can see her underwear!"

Then my Dad ended this story with, "And there you could see her wearing a big old thong."

I rolled my eyes at that.

After some other stuff, we finally left.

Probably the most productive thing I did all day.
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