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It was a Saturday afternoon. I sat in my room channel surfing; and of course there was absolutely nothing on. After searching the channels for what seemed like the hundredth time, I gave up on the TV and went to my computer. Some internet surfing might be able to rid me of my boredom. I signed into my e-mail account and that was as far as I got before I was summoned. “Lindsay, can you come here.”

“Coming Mom.” Well, here we go. I walked out of my room and found my mother lying in bed watching some random movie that, to me, didn’t seem all that interesting. I walked into the room. “What?”

“I’m hungry. You think you can make me some lunch.”

I sighed. It was always like this. “Fine.” I walked downstairs where I bumped into my little sister, Brianna. “Hey Bri, you hungry?”

“A little bit.”

“Mom wants me to make her lunch now so do you want something?” Now, when my mother asked me if I would make her lunch I answered reluctantly. But I never minded doing things for my sister.”

“Ok.”

“What do you want?”

“Whatever you are making for mom is fine. Can I help?”

I love my sister. “Sure.” We made lunch for four. I figured my dad would want lunch after he saw me give it to my mother so I just made his lunch too. And I was right. I went back downstairs to enjoy my lunch with my sister.

So lunch came and went. I was able to be bored for, oh about an hour before my mother called me again. This time she was out of cigarettes. Luckily she had another pack around, because I’m only 17. I can’t legally bye cigarettes until I turn 18 and there was no way that I would do something illegal for my parents. They have to do something for themselves. Ok, I went off on a tangent. I went to find my mother’s damn cigarettes. I really wish she would stop smoking. That would be one less thing that I would have to do.

I found her cigarettes and I went back to doing what I wanted. Which if you’ve noticed, I don’t get to do to often. And as usual, it didn’t last. I was called again. This time because she was thirsty. Oh and because my dad wanted a sandwich.

I went downstairs, got her drink and made his sandwich. Then I took them upstairs. Mom placed her glass on her nightstand and dad went straight for his sandwich.

I left the room and not five minutes later I was called back into the room. She had reached for her remote control and knocked over her drink so now I had to clean up her mess. All of a sudden I feel like a maid.

And if you think the afternoon was bad, then you should stick around and see what happens in the evening.

First it’s cooking dinner. But on this particular evening, I had to go shopping for groceries first, because that is yet another thing that they don’t do on their own.

Luckily for me, my sister was in the mood to help me shop. After our trip to the grocery store, I went to cook dinner. And although I was only 17, it couldn’t be a simple dinner. Dinner had to be up to their standards. And of course, they are too good to even come down and eat with their children. So after I cooked, I had to serve them dinner in bed. Then after they are done, I have to clean up their dishes. Then I have to bring them dessert. And with their dessert, their alcoholic beverages. Then the next morning, I have to clean up their messes.

So that’s usually what goes on every Saturday, give or take a call from my mother or two. Sunday is almost the same thing. First clean up their mess, then make breakfast. Sunday’s are almost the same as Saturday’s. Except they actually leave the house. But even then it’s only for like 4 hours at most. I have to drive them to wherever the hell they are going on a given Sunday for their social outing. Then I have to pick them up and start dinner. Then the routine with the dessert.

And the only break I get is when I go to school.