Status: Updates every four days.
We Way? Three Way!
Hair Cut Time
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a grown man and three teenage girls reenact Bye Bye Birdie. If you have, I’m so sorry. If you haven’t, dear god, you don’t know what you’re missing.
“Oh, having kids around is great. Why don’t I have kids, again?” Brendon asked himself, having smothered Jillian, Natalie, and myself in a hug similar to one a child would give to a cat.
“We’re teenagers, for your information.” Jillian choked out.
“Still, if you guys ever need a babysitter, I’m only a five hour plane ride away.”
“What part of teenagers are you not getting? We scare the living shit out of people.”
“But you guys like flowers…”
“Becca thinks they’re tasty.” I said, chewing thoughtfully on my daisy. Brendon grabbed it back with a horrified look on his face and I reluctantly released it. Then I nearly squealed.
“Becca, what’s up with you? I though you only ate violets after dinner.”
“Cupcake just told me to make him a Shirley temple!”
“And that makes you happy…?”
“He wasn’t talking to me… and now he is! But I don’t know how to make a Shirley temple. So I’m going to have to ask him to tell me about how babies are made again. He likes to feel smart but I don’t know if all that stuff about China is true. I don’t have a stamp, but he says it probably wore off because I’m barefoot so much.” I rushed out before sprinting up the stairs and managing to fall, get a decent impact on my chin, run to the bathroom for a band aid and finally end up back in my room, where Cupcake sat high upon my bed, wearing his reading glasses, with an Equestrian Fancy magazine turned to the saddle section. Sizes didn’t run that small, though.
“Hmm? Mental health? Well since I just had to get mine checked I don’t see why you couldn’t have taken a day or two off, yeah. I’ll leave you to read, then, because I got my recital scheduled for the day before Brendon leaves and I still need to work on landing this little jumpy thing. I don’t remember what Miss Nadia called it, but she said to think of myself as a lemur. They don’t land with little splat noises like frogs do. And I really want to show you my costume, because I got to add extra sequins, and I know how much you like those.” I explained, turning on the small CD player and setting it back to the beginning of Camisado. I’d had to scrap the Build God Then We’ll Talk routine because it started feeling like how soggy croutons taste. It was just wrong. I pulled out my costume, proud that it was my own to keep, and changed quickly, not wanting to have another incident with me dancing in my underwear, especially not with Brendon around because he didn’t know the rules. It was based off of a marionette, with the skirt being just short enough that I could move easily, but long enough that I wasn’t flashing anyone my always-there shorts. The top was simple enough, just a square neck with short, puffed sleeves, and the entire thing was a pale green. Along the hemline were silver sequins that reflected the most out of any I’d found. I’d even gotten silver slippers to dance in, but I wasn’t sure of how they’d work out.
I counted mentally as the song went on, ignoring the loud thudding form downstairs until Brendon ran into my room with a pair of scissors.
“You’re hair is too long. You would be absolutely freaking adorable if I just cut it a little bit. So please, get your ass into the bathroom before I drag you there myself.”
I blinked a few times.
“Becca, that man is fast, we tried to stop him and he must’ve had red bull or something because he even got past Papa’s awkward knees and managed to jump off the couch and over Ray.”
I blinked some more. Then I screamed as Brendon shamelessly took me out of my dress and put me into my other clothing, because he “didn’t want to ruin the pretty recital dress” and dragged me by the belt loops into the bathroom. Thank god I was wearing my nice bra, and the orange shorts, which I always thought made my hips looked more existent then their normal boy-ish state. A flurry of snipping, Brendon singing and saying nice, reassuring things, and one broken down door courtesy of Gerard later, I was back downstairs, with my hair being pet by at least five different people. Sometimes I wonder how I can find all of this completely normal.
“Oh, having kids around is great. Why don’t I have kids, again?” Brendon asked himself, having smothered Jillian, Natalie, and myself in a hug similar to one a child would give to a cat.
“We’re teenagers, for your information.” Jillian choked out.
“Still, if you guys ever need a babysitter, I’m only a five hour plane ride away.”
“What part of teenagers are you not getting? We scare the living shit out of people.”
“But you guys like flowers…”
“Becca thinks they’re tasty.” I said, chewing thoughtfully on my daisy. Brendon grabbed it back with a horrified look on his face and I reluctantly released it. Then I nearly squealed.
“Becca, what’s up with you? I though you only ate violets after dinner.”
“Cupcake just told me to make him a Shirley temple!”
“And that makes you happy…?”
“He wasn’t talking to me… and now he is! But I don’t know how to make a Shirley temple. So I’m going to have to ask him to tell me about how babies are made again. He likes to feel smart but I don’t know if all that stuff about China is true. I don’t have a stamp, but he says it probably wore off because I’m barefoot so much.” I rushed out before sprinting up the stairs and managing to fall, get a decent impact on my chin, run to the bathroom for a band aid and finally end up back in my room, where Cupcake sat high upon my bed, wearing his reading glasses, with an Equestrian Fancy magazine turned to the saddle section. Sizes didn’t run that small, though.
“Hmm? Mental health? Well since I just had to get mine checked I don’t see why you couldn’t have taken a day or two off, yeah. I’ll leave you to read, then, because I got my recital scheduled for the day before Brendon leaves and I still need to work on landing this little jumpy thing. I don’t remember what Miss Nadia called it, but she said to think of myself as a lemur. They don’t land with little splat noises like frogs do. And I really want to show you my costume, because I got to add extra sequins, and I know how much you like those.” I explained, turning on the small CD player and setting it back to the beginning of Camisado. I’d had to scrap the Build God Then We’ll Talk routine because it started feeling like how soggy croutons taste. It was just wrong. I pulled out my costume, proud that it was my own to keep, and changed quickly, not wanting to have another incident with me dancing in my underwear, especially not with Brendon around because he didn’t know the rules. It was based off of a marionette, with the skirt being just short enough that I could move easily, but long enough that I wasn’t flashing anyone my always-there shorts. The top was simple enough, just a square neck with short, puffed sleeves, and the entire thing was a pale green. Along the hemline were silver sequins that reflected the most out of any I’d found. I’d even gotten silver slippers to dance in, but I wasn’t sure of how they’d work out.
I counted mentally as the song went on, ignoring the loud thudding form downstairs until Brendon ran into my room with a pair of scissors.
“You’re hair is too long. You would be absolutely freaking adorable if I just cut it a little bit. So please, get your ass into the bathroom before I drag you there myself.”
I blinked a few times.
“Becca, that man is fast, we tried to stop him and he must’ve had red bull or something because he even got past Papa’s awkward knees and managed to jump off the couch and over Ray.”
I blinked some more. Then I screamed as Brendon shamelessly took me out of my dress and put me into my other clothing, because he “didn’t want to ruin the pretty recital dress” and dragged me by the belt loops into the bathroom. Thank god I was wearing my nice bra, and the orange shorts, which I always thought made my hips looked more existent then their normal boy-ish state. A flurry of snipping, Brendon singing and saying nice, reassuring things, and one broken down door courtesy of Gerard later, I was back downstairs, with my hair being pet by at least five different people. Sometimes I wonder how I can find all of this completely normal.