"You do not need both fridge doors open."
Actually, yes I do. It's completely impossible for me to decide what to eat if the unknown tundra of the other side is not seen.
This is just one of the few things Sarah nags me about. Sarah, my friend/mother or "frother" is a constant reminder of why I'm thankful to be nineteen. Although I've escaped the scrutiny of my real mother, my frother is not so merciful.
"Turn down your music"
She says this but feels the need to do it for me, usually reaching over and twisting the volume dial to an unbearable 11 on a scale of 34. However, in her car her speakers practically implode. I never watch for her when she comes over to my house. All I have to do is listen for the low rumbling "bump" of 93.9 as she pulls into my drive.
Did I mention she falls asleep around 2 a.m.? Who in there right mind gets sleep before 9a.m. in the morning!?
Honestly, she might as well have in floral nightgown and lacy socks.
(No offense Mammaw hahah)
Apart from being a parental downfall to my childish antics, she claims that I wouldn't know what to do if she didn't regulate my actions.
Grant it, she keeps me out of trouble sometimes.. But I know how to use a microwave perfectly well thank you very much, I'd just prefer you to do it for me out of pure laziness... not stupidity.
After a decided argument in the kitchen I told her I would write a blog about her frothering me. She pointedly told me to go right ahead and so I did, in a joking manner.
Now she's laying beside me, quite furious about this post.. I think I might be grounded. :P
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