By Elie Klein,
Today was possibly the worst day of my life. Things were going pretty well in school, but my day was quickly ruined as soon as I got home. The second I stepped foot in the house, my mom asked me to drive Joey to baseball practice. Ever since I started driving, my parents constantly use me as a car service.
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I must confess. I, too, was once a teenager. So was my older sister. I owe a lot to her.
I would sit on the stairs and watch her and my parents go at it. They would scream about her boyfriends, her grades and the late hours she would come home.
I'm buying groceries twice a week, taking Dad to work in the morning before school, and driving carpool for the noisiest Little Leaguers in the history of the world. As I was picking up Joey's dysfunctional carpool, I remembered about the paper I have due tomorrow. It shouldn't have been too hard to finish, I was almost done, but I just knew that Mom would think up more things for me to do as soon as I got home. I couldn't have been more right.
I spent the rest of the night putting away groceries, walking the dog, feeding him, cleaning my room (I could have sworn I did that yesterday), and doing two loads of laundry. It took me forever to finish everything, and when I was done cleaning my room (again), my Mom asked me to help Joey put away the toys that were all over the floor in his room. I refused. Why should I do more work? I didn't make the mess, why should I clean it up?
I didn't stick around long enough to hear her response before I ran to my room, but I can imagine that she's pretty ticked at me. But I just don't get it! I go to school and work there all day, and then I have to come home and work more! Why do all the chores get dumped on me? And how do they expect me to do all these chores in addition to my schoolwork?
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It's already eight o'clock, and I haven't even had a chance to sit down and work on my paper that's due tomorrow. I can't stand it when they do this to me. If it were only once in a while, that would be one thing. But it's the same thing every day. And it's not like I can refuse to do my own chores; I wouldn't live to tell about it. It's just not fair. Well, I have to go finish up this paper now. A perfectly lousy end to a perfectly lousy day.
My Dad likes to say that if at any time during a baseball game the center fielder decided that he was tired of chasing after fly balls all day, the team as a whole would be in trouble when he walked off the field. Likewise, he concludes, a family must work together as the ultimate team. Every member of the family has specific jobs that are vital to the family unit, and when one member of the family neglects their responsibilities, the entire family suffers the consequences.
OK, Dad, but how many positions can I play?
I want to be traded.