Posted on 05.23.2015 • 1 comment.
The title perfectly sums up what’s going to happen in a few weeks from now, and it’s something worse than a tornado.
A foreword first: I don’t like kids; my maternal insticts were washed away by my own childhood and puberty, and to me kids are obnoxious, loud, arrogant know-it-alls and all in all freaking annoying. But let me explain what it has to do with the title.
This year summer holidays start on June 6th; my niece has decided on her own she wants to have her class’ year-ending part at our house, and she expects us—as in my parents—to prep everything for the party, which she thinks of as some village fair with a sack race, a treasure hunt and such. That means 9 primary school brats will be coming upon us, thinking this is their own home, making messes and destroying everything in the house….the Huns’ invasion. Oh, joy.
My parents will let her (and them) run wild, but they better keep one thing in mind: count me out; I’m not helping prepping everything, and on the invasion day sure as he** I’m gonna stay safely and soundly cooped up in my room, locking the door to insure the little s**ts stay out.
The invasion is still a few weeks away, but I’m dreading it so much I needed to let it out immediately; many of you will be angry for what I wrote, but I only care to a certain extent: this is my blog, my stress relief, and what I write here is totally personal.
Anyway, see you all on next entry; take care, guys, and have a wonderful Sunday.