Dear Diary,
Sometimes I really hate this stupid family!!
Why am I the one always getting in trouble while my snotty baby brother Will gets his own way every time? It makes me so mad! He doesn’t have to take any meatloaf, but I have to eat every crummy thing on the table! Here’s a news flash, Mom—nobody likes your lousy meatloaf, regardless of whatever alien creature it’s made from!!
Then there’s Judy, who suddenly won’t touch vegetables—what’s that all about? How come I’m the only one not allowed to eat what I want?
It’s all Dad’s fault anyway. Why did he have to invite that disgusting alien to dinner? Is it my fault that I had to sit directly opposite him (or her—heck, I don’t know what it is!)? The way it ate was so disgusting, I couldn’t stand eating much of anything.
And then as usual Dr. Smith started griping and whining: "I detest dining off this atrocious azurean artifact!" "William, kindly stop torturing me with that egregious elbow!" Don grabbed Dr. Smith’s arm and told him to shut up. Dad switched places with Will to try to calm down the situation.
That’s when Mom noticed I hadn’t touched my meatloaf. She went crazy! And she sent me to my room.
IT JUST ISN’T FAIR!!
© 2001 by Dwight Kemper
All rights reserved
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