Friday night: the best time to reflect on your week with your family, play games and enjoy a lovely homecooked meal at the dining room table. The warm, welcoming, worshipful aroma filling your lungs forcing a small smile on your face no matter your mood beforehand. Chatter and laughter ringing in your ears building up anticipation for the luscious, mouth-watering, delectable mac and cheese. The type of mac and cheese your mum is known for, the type of mac and cheese you beg for every day, the type of mac and cheese that you think about day and night. That type. My family always plays at least five games of Uno after eating, it's a tradition. My dad is way too competitive even though he never wins, but he always finds a way of blaming it on me. I mean, to be honest, I kind of see where he is coming from. I am the best at Uno, if it were in the Olympics, I'd have more gold medals than Michal Phelps! They would have to make more and more and more, and I would be able to retire at the ripe, young age of 25. I guess that's the goal now, I clearly have great aspirations obviously. Well, what a life, huh?!
Another thing my family does on the regular, seeming as we are white and middle classed, is go mini golfing. You know golf, but smaller, less work, effort and a hell of a lot quicker. But still, too long. But I do have to admit, if you haven't gone mini golfing, you are really missing out. All you have to do is hit a small ball with a stick into a hole. It sounds dreadfully boring, but somehow they make it exhilarating. Maybe it's the coruscating, fluorescent beams of light that are like repeated hot camera flashes. Or the invigorating feeling of getting below par, don't even get me started on the feeling of getting a hole in one! Or maybe even the choice of picking out a coloured, cylindrical piece of plastic and metal that I will be hitting and loosing for the next hour or two. If you are lucky, there will be a huge array and assortment of colours from honeydew to eggplant or lavender to sea foam. That's where the money is, it's completely free to stare in awe at the magical little balls of bliss. I could spend hours upon hours, maybe even days trying to choose the perfect one for the mood I'm in, which is extremely hard and truly a talent that unfortunately I do not possess. After I have made my choice, the second I cannot reverse it, I beg and I cry and I moan about the fact that I hate the colour and wonder, what on earth was I thinking?! Well, I guess that's part of the experience, isn't it?
YOU ARE READING
That's for being homophobic bitches
HorrorNo family is perfect. There is always one, one person that lets them down. That person would be Victoria. A 'perfect' Christian family repulsed by their gay daughter. But don't worry, they get what they deserve. This book isn't for the faint hearted...
