𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐃𝐔𝐊𝐄𝐒 ‣︎ 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 & 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝐈. my lovely fair family

𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

I really don't know if it's just me, but being a middle child sucks—if you haven't already known that from the book series Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney.

But I always seemed to be able to relate what Greg rants about. (Greg is the main character in the series.) I mean, I have a little brother and an older brother, it really doesn't get any worse than that.

My older brother seems to always want to bug me—do I let my anger out on him? Yes, yes I do. Do I get in trouble for it later by my parents when my older brother said that I cussed him out even when that's not true? Yes, yes I do. And not to mention that my little brother seems to team up with my older one. I bet he bribed him with cookies or something.

But seeing as it'd be really confusing to talk about them, I'll give them the names of Greg's brothers. My little bother would be Manny, and my older brother would be Rodrick.

Now, my parents say that we all get treated the same. The lies they say. If I were to ask for a dog on Christmas, would I get it? No, because "dogs give off to much hair, and they bark a lot, and I don't want to end up being the one taking care of it." (Wise words coming from my dad.)

If Manny were to ask for a whole Lego Star Wars set, my parents would gladly buy him it, no questions asked. Even when Lego's are really painfully to step on (I would know after April Fool's Day when Rodrick trapped me in my room by gluing so many Lego's on to cardboard and laying all over the floor on my room—the agony.) And don't worry, my brother is old enough to have Lego's, he's almost 9. Now, for my dear brother Rodrick.

Rodrick loves video games. GTA, Call of Duty, Ratchet and Clank, Minecraft, Roblox, Sniper Elite, you name it, he plays it. He has an XBox 360 and a PS4. But if he were to ask for a computer or something, he would be declined for already have to consoles to play on, which isn't bad. He has a Xbox for crying out loud.

You see what I mean? My parents treat Manny much more better, even when he is a horrible 9-year-old. My brother Rodrick is only two years older than I am, he's seventeen, and has a job—I know, shocker right? But he only works half of the day. He doesn't get paid much, but when he does, it goes straight down the drain, even when my parents tell him to save it all.

My parents weren't always fond of having animals in the house. Only exception are fish. But fish are sort of boring pets. You can't cuddle them unless you start to suffocate them. But anyways, if there is one thing you should know about Manny, is that he has a huge fascination with animals. Ever since I can remember, I always knew he wanted a bird. More specific, a cockatiel. My mother loves birds. So did we get one? No. Because birds are also loud, poop a lot, and fling seeds all over the place. But that didn't stop my brother from wanting one.

And as the school year finished. My brothers and I were off to be more lazier then ever. That is until the day my father came home that one day in July of 2019 and brought home a CANARY.

If you didn't know, a canary is a small bird. A small, annoying, loud, obnoxious, bird. He is yellow and has some splotches of brown...? I really don't know the exact colour of him, but don't I want him gone. Yes, the bird is a male too. AND BOY DOES HE LOVE TO SING IN 8 IN THE MORNING.

This canary is a yellow american singing canary. Search it up if you want to see how he sort of looks like. And was Manny ecstatic. He started to talk to him every day, right in his journal about his weird habits, listen to him sing, take pictures of him. Manny was quickly attached. Meanwhile, me and Rodrick knew our lives would never be the same—In the bad way.

And that canary needed a name. Rodrick first decided to name him rotten banana. I playfully agreeing. But Manny didn't want that name. So we called him Banana for a bit. When mum came home she was excited yet confused and she immediately wanted to change the name.

Then I started thinking. What can I name a yellow bird? Helga Hufflepuff? No, she's a girl, we're naming a boy bird. Then it hit me. Blurting out I suggested the name "Cedric Diggory."

Did they take it? Yes, yes they did.

And so, now we have a bird whose name is Cedric Diggory. Cedric is already one years old, and Manny and my mother seem to love him more every day, whilst my brother Rodrick, my dad, and I all wish he never set foot in this house. He sings everyday, even as I type this right now.

One thing that I would never forget, was what my father said two weeks ago, "My biggest mistake is bringing that bird home."

Now, I don't want you guys to think ill of me. But all the hate towards Cedric the bird is all a joke. Cedric's a good bird—even when he poo's on Manny's shirt when he carries him around the house. But, even with Cedric around, all I ever pray for is some silence once in a while. Even if it's just for a little bit, and that includes Rodrick's snoring, Manny's cooing towards Cedric, and Cedric singing/chirping.