Let's Burn Our Dreams Into the Skyline
Man-skirts, anyone?
Okay, Wentz-in-a-dress. It’s kind of like Jack-in-a-box, but better. Way better. I’m about 90% sure I choked on Ice Tea when he came down the stairs. That kid sure does have a hell of a lot to prove to the world.
“That’s my skirt!” Linnea spat at him. He merely shrugged.
“Fuck.” I announced. “That means you get to be the mom, doesn’t it?”
“Pretty much.” He nodded.
I began unzipping my Hello Kitty jacket and sliding it down my pale arms. I chucked it at Pete. “That’ll match.” I stated bluntly to him.
“Oh.” Linnea muttered, “I thought you were going to start stripping.” I rolled my eyes at her.
“If Pete’s the mom-”
“Which mentally scars me.” Linnea cut me off.
“Who am I gonna be?” I sighed.
“Hmm…”
“You should be a transvestite dad!” Gabe exclaimed “We could be the bestest, most fucked-up family, ever!”
“I look like a man?” I questioned.
“Uh….” He stared into space.
“Hey, kids how are you doin-” And that is the moment Mrs. Wentz’s groceries met the nice linoleum floor.
"Uh, Pete? What are you wearing?" she asked, keeping her jaw on the floor the entire time.
"Uh... a man-skirt."
"Why?"
"It makes me feel pretty" he announced, moving from side-to-side so the skirt twirled with him.
She opened her eyes widely and slowly marched up the stairs.
“Shall we move this partaaay?” I suggested.
“To?” Patrick perked up.
Everyone talked about whose mom was home or at work for a minute, until the Max (three cheers for third person!) hatched an evil plan.
“Wait.” I screeched. Everyone fell silent. “What day is it?”
“…Friday?” Alex mumbled.
“My house. Now.” I demanded, showing everyone out the door. My parents worked for a newspaper, so they were home all day and at work all night. It sucked when I was five, but it works for my advantage now.
Everyone got up from their comfortable places on the couch and we made our way towards the door.
“Pete.” Linnea sighed.
“Mhmm?”
“Take off the skirt.” She groaned.
“Woah. Isn’t that like inscest?” Ryland pointed out.
“I say he keeps it. I dunno, I kinda like it.” I said without thinking. Dirty stares? You better believe it!
“Oh, please. Don’t look at me like that.” I grabbed Steph by the wrist simply because she was the closest person to me at the moment and dragged her out the door. “C’moooooooon.” I whined and got the insane urge to run down the street like the moron that I am. Everyone followed me and that poor Steph who I had forced into joining me. We were all giggling like idiots and sprinting down the sidewalk. I was trying to figure out how many times you could drop a child on it’s head and it still be consider non-child-abuse. Because I think I was dropped once more than that limit.
“That’s my skirt!” Linnea spat at him. He merely shrugged.
“Fuck.” I announced. “That means you get to be the mom, doesn’t it?”
“Pretty much.” He nodded.
I began unzipping my Hello Kitty jacket and sliding it down my pale arms. I chucked it at Pete. “That’ll match.” I stated bluntly to him.
“Oh.” Linnea muttered, “I thought you were going to start stripping.” I rolled my eyes at her.
“If Pete’s the mom-”
“Which mentally scars me.” Linnea cut me off.
“Who am I gonna be?” I sighed.
“Hmm…”
“You should be a transvestite dad!” Gabe exclaimed “We could be the bestest, most fucked-up family, ever!”
“I look like a man?” I questioned.
“Uh….” He stared into space.
“Hey, kids how are you doin-” And that is the moment Mrs. Wentz’s groceries met the nice linoleum floor.
"Uh, Pete? What are you wearing?" she asked, keeping her jaw on the floor the entire time.
"Uh... a man-skirt."
"Why?"
"It makes me feel pretty" he announced, moving from side-to-side so the skirt twirled with him.
She opened her eyes widely and slowly marched up the stairs.
“Shall we move this partaaay?” I suggested.
“To?” Patrick perked up.
Everyone talked about whose mom was home or at work for a minute, until the Max (three cheers for third person!) hatched an evil plan.
“Wait.” I screeched. Everyone fell silent. “What day is it?”
“…Friday?” Alex mumbled.
“My house. Now.” I demanded, showing everyone out the door. My parents worked for a newspaper, so they were home all day and at work all night. It sucked when I was five, but it works for my advantage now.
Everyone got up from their comfortable places on the couch and we made our way towards the door.
“Pete.” Linnea sighed.
“Mhmm?”
“Take off the skirt.” She groaned.
“Woah. Isn’t that like inscest?” Ryland pointed out.
“I say he keeps it. I dunno, I kinda like it.” I said without thinking. Dirty stares? You better believe it!
“Oh, please. Don’t look at me like that.” I grabbed Steph by the wrist simply because she was the closest person to me at the moment and dragged her out the door. “C’moooooooon.” I whined and got the insane urge to run down the street like the moron that I am. Everyone followed me and that poor Steph who I had forced into joining me. We were all giggling like idiots and sprinting down the sidewalk. I was trying to figure out how many times you could drop a child on it’s head and it still be consider non-child-abuse. Because I think I was dropped once more than that limit.
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Incest fo' Danielle.