F*ck Off Wolfboy! {on hold}

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Quincy’s POV

If Aunt Cleo and Lila were Santa and Mrs. Clause, my mother would obviously be the Grinch. I can see it now: beach ball shaped, cookie eating Santa Cleo playing "who can wake up the rest of the house inhabitants" with the elf children and his/her wifey, the snowy haired, cookie baking Mrs. Lila Valentine Easter Deer'Rein Patrick Clause (she decided to keep all her ex husbands' names for unknown reasos), when Grinchy comes to town.

When I woke up, I stretched my fingers across the blanket, my eyes still glued shut, searching for the tiny bundle of Dove. When I found no blond, hyper/energetic, snoring 4 year old, I groaned and peaked open my eyes. Her side of the covers pooled on the ground, the pillows pushed in every direction, a lethagic, sprawled-ou Fitzgerald and a lone Wow Wow Wubzy doll in the place Dove should be. I figured she went downstairs, judging from the suspicious trail of Disney toys and miniature clothes leading out the half-open door.

Still in my Sesame Street PJs (guess who gave me them for Christmas?), I rolled out of bed, shuffling in my slippers. I probably looked like some mutant monster mixed up with a grandmother, with my bloodshot eyes, rumpled clothes, knotty hair, and ever-present slippers (I was cold! Deal with it!), but oh well, everyone, with the exception of El Presedente, Fitzgerald, and Beast, in this house was a fairy tail creature.

I headed towards the kitchen, running a hand through my hair sleepily as I walked. I cringed back as Aunt Cleo's high-pitched "Judah-Judah-ah-as"s assaulted my ears. Jeez, can you say verbal abuse? Lila's slightly better, but just as loud "Ale-Ale-jandro"s reached me, followed by giggled "P-P-P-P-P-Poker face"s and squealed "Baby I was Born this Way!"s.

Peering into the room, I raised an eyebrow and questioned, "And what are you doing?"

Aunt Cleo was perched atop the huge wooden table, wearing her creepy clown PJs (just imagine thousands of heavily made up clown faces, grinning evily at youfrom your aunt's pants...Exactly) smiling and screaming out the lyrics to Lady Gaga's "Judas". Lila pranced around on top of the table, whipping her hair, doing some sort of unmentionable dance, dressed in frog prince pajamas, laughing around the lyrics to "Alejandro". At their feet, a small army of little kids hopped around, shrieking out Lady Gaga songs, although most of their versions were pretty distorted.

"Wake up call, Quincy!" Lila squealed, not stopping her clumsy 'dancing'. This was a game they played whenever we had company, since Lila didn't approve of alarm clocks or waking people up in a polite, normal way, but it was no fun with only three people and three cats (Aunt Cleo, Lila, Dove, El Presedente, Fitzgerald, and Beast) annoying someone (aka me) into consciousness. Basically, we picked a singer or a band and everyone had to sing one of their songs as loud as they could. The last time this happened, Lila's sisters and their kids were visiting and the chosen artist was Ke$ha. It wasn't exactly pleasant when the first thing you heard in the morning was "Wake up in the morni- This place about to blooooowww- Blah! Blah! Blah! Think you'll be- I am in love, with what we- We are who we are!" Luckily, that was several months ago, so Dove was surrogate alarm clock instead of the tone deaf band of screeching weirdos.

As I was saying, Aunt Cleo and Lila would be the Clauses and the screaming toddlers are the elves. So what was missing here? Ah right. Cue Grinchy!

"What the hell?!" Maybe my mother shouldn't be the Grinch. I think Donald Duck is more 'her'.

Grinning wickedly at mommy's smudged makeup, err...revealing PJs, and frizzy hair pulled up into a thousand curlers, I mockily chastised her, "Language Elaine! There are children present!"

If looks could kill, I'd be snug as a bug in a rug in my sweet little coffin by now. "Just shut up!"

"Why? Does someone need their beauty sleep, Elaine?" Aunt Cleo smirked, spinning around (on the floor now) with a sweet faced little boy in her arms.