Saturdays are wonderful. You don't have the guilt of not having work done yet, you sleep late and stay up, and mess around all day. This saturday was no exception. I woke up at nine AM, and, after a few hours of trying to sleep again, I went downstairs, it was about eleven. After sitting around for maybe an hour, I was really half-asleep, my dad stood up.
"We're going to the st. Patrick's day parade." I leapt at the opportunity to leave the house. After driving and listening to a mix of Beatles, Nirvana, and a large amount of other music, all probably written before 2000 for half an hour, my father parked the car. We walked for another half hour, maybe fifteen minutes. Only one brother was there, and he shall be known as Brother 2, because he is third oldest (I am youngest at 13, Brother 1 is 16, Brother 2 is 15, Sister is 21-going-on-22). Brother 2 was complaining the whole way. At the parade, we stood on the grass, me on a rock because I'm still 5'0", and watched the parade. A band playing "Sweet Caroline" came by.
"You know, no one actually knows the words to that song." Brother 2 said to me, as my dad mumbled and yelled out, "BUM BUM BUM!" at the right time. I nodded and laughed.
After a confusing and long ride home, we got ready to go to the bowling alley. Nothing really funny happen until I got a spare. Me, the most un-sporty girl at my school, got her first-ever spare in REAL bowling! I ran up to my brother and reached out to fake-slap him, but I fell and hit the ground, hard. After bowling, me and Bestfriend and SC (two good friends) and both Brothers, along with SCBrother started playing pool. Halfway through game one, an obviously intoxicated man came up to us, grumbling something about "class." In a last-ditch attempt to get his point across, he smashed his hand, knuckle-down, onto the pool table, following with a last grunt of "CLASS!" and inspecting his hand before staggering off.
I hope he didn't drive home.
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