Hippie Middle Kid

Entry 3

Dear WK

So, great aunt is described as rebellious and unruly by her family. But great aunt is just a fucking awesome person who actually enjoys her youth, and acts her age of course unlike every other pretentious, facade loving Wilson. Though I think this little incident landed me the term rebellious. Well to be honest, it's not just one incident, but I think this one takes the prize.

So, it's an early Saturday morning and I already can't wait for this day to be done with, and this really sucks because usually my Saturdays are so fun with Chase or Tuck. Chase's my boyfriend.

Mouth agape?

Well shut it before you catch a fly

I know, I get this reaction from a lotta people when they find out I actually do have a love life. Truth be told, I love my boyfriend, he's one of the few people who really gets me and understand my family, as a unit. And Tuck is our official third wheel, and we love him like that. We are like the three super hippies, except I'm the only hippie but I just like pissing off society by accepting the label it has given us. So mum's hosting her annual FeedAChildBid and party. She does this every year, organises a bid where she sells most of furniture Lord knows she's practically a hoarder I mean she has several storage units filled, anyway, I must give it to her for realising that she's capable of doing some sort good. Now, you'd expect nothing less from a Wilson but to make it all extravagant, and that's exactly what she does, and I honestly think she spends more organising the event than she actually manages to raise. But hey, that's how she is, if it ain't be-dazzling what's the point as she'll say. The deal breaker for me especially is that she gets the whole family to come, which means I'm going to have to endure Goldie, and also she makes us dress up in stupid bright coloured dresses which are an infringement to my hippy way of living, and appear to be more like gowns than anything to me. Last year we wore pink, with overly embellished straps. When Goldie saw them she went like

"Mother! I love it, this is exquisite"

It was some Italian designer dress, I swear she goes way over the top, and I bet it cost thousands to just dress us up. Isn't wearing jeans and a tee enough, it's for charity for crying out loud.

Just as I'm rolling out of bed, I hear a knock at my door, and before I even respond, the till miniature busts into my room. What was the point of knocking then? Let me just constrain myself, it's way too early for me to start shouting.

"Sel, what's the point of knocking then if you're just gonna budge in" I just have to

"Formalities, some of us actually do have manners."

I can't help but just roll my eyes at this little........you know what I'll say it, she's an asshole, like seriously she's only eight and she acts as if she runs this joint.

"Sel, What do you want?" I ask her my teeth gritted

She holds up her hand

"Don't go about calling me Sel Samantha; I don't like this, disorderly name calling" she says her annoying squeaky eight year old voice ringing in my ears

Alright, I've had enough

"Get out"

"Mum asks for your presence.......NOW"

She's lucky I actually want to do something with my life, or else I'd just strangle her, and even plead guilty because I swear she's going to drive me insane, the bad kind, they both do. I so can't wait for college. So I get up and walk to mum's office, yes that's right, her office.

She eyes my peejays. And doesn't comment, instead she starts sorting out some of her large folders, whilst I wait, I decide not to give her the satisfaction of my impatience and take a seat on her couch, my feet on the head rest texting Chase. I hear her mumbling about where she had misplaced that event planner's contact details.

"Thank goodness" she mutters and I assume she's found it.

"Right, Samantha. I've placed your dress in the living room. I'd very much like it if you wear it as it is, no any sort of alterations. And due to the incident we had last time; I think it's best we give you formal flats"

So two years ago, mum decided we should pair our dresses with like 6 inch stilettos. I knew how to hold myself in them; she'd made sure of that by sending me to programs. So just to spite her, I forced myself to trip and fall as she gave the welcome speech. If there's anything mother loathes, it's humiliation and incompetence. She wouldn't want people to think she's incompetent and that her children aren't people of 'promise' and ladies. She told everyone I was having troubles sleeping so the Insomnia meds were heavily affecting my concentration. Anyway it was a debacle for her, but it was just the opposite for me. And that's one thing, us Wilsons have this uncanny ability to lie our asses off no sweat, it's just so effortless....it's absolutely fucking amazing. That's about one of the very, very few things we all have in common.

"Get your feet off my couch young lady" she says it calmly but her voice laced with so much spite.

"What happened to the appropriate, fab night wear I bought you just yesterday?"

Sold it

"Oh, totally forgot about them......I guess it just slipped my mind that I have some fab nightdress hanging in my closet" I say walking out.

It's just morning, and it has already started, and Goldie's not even here yet. I head over to the lounge to grab the stupid dress, and get an early start, maybe it just might end quicker, and I can always ditch the after party and head to Chase's. I walk in and there it is, staring at me right in the face, this golden yellow strapless long ass dress, again with a sequined belt. The dress isn't so bad, just that although I'm no elegant fashion expert, I can tell the dress will look saggy with flats, because it's that kind of dress that really long and needs a heel to just give it that little something. Now with flats I'm practically going to be dragging it through dirt. Also not to mention how bad it will look with my red hair, why couldn't she just get an easier colour that fits everyone? But then again, I don't really care, it's not like anyone I know is coming.

"Magnificent, I love it. This is an exquisite work of style." Goldie says eyeing it.

And everything makes sense now, she chose the dress. It'll fit her perfectly, her golden blonde hair, and olive skin...great, so not only will I be looking like a fucking hobo, there's going to be some model strutting that dress like shit.

"Hello Samantha"

"Millie" I say and roll my eyes as I find my way out

"You need proper pyjamas dear"

"Bitch" I mutter

No way am I going to look like a fucking distressed middle aged woman, I'll work with it. So I take out my old sewing machine after shortening the dress a bit and opening up this huge slit. I nicely stitch it all round and make sure the hem looks perfect; I've always been good with my sewing. I also give it a bit more flair as it was like straight.

The bid starts, and I come out in my custom altered dress and my hair untied, which is a big issue with mum. Apparently a 'lady' always has her hair tied, bull shit to my ears.