Oh Sammy

Dear Diary,

Upon the exposure of my Diary to the public, I received my first critic: Sammy. A nine year old kid who struggles on the homework section that requires him to incorporate four of his weekly vocabulary words into a story has become the first person to bash my blog; though I should mention that sometimes my mom needs help on that homework part too, so perhaps the homework is truly challenging...orrrrr perhapsssss myyy mommm issss...KIDDIN' MUM. However, along with the haters will always come the admiring fans who actively support me such as my sister, the fans who passively appreciate my work such as my dad , and the fans who go flippin nuts and tell of their friends such as my mom. Mothaa you da bomb.

Well being the generous, kind, and amazing person I raised myself to be, I asked each family member individually if I may continue writing about them. My sister and parents gave me the thumbs up; however, when I asked Sammy if I can continue writing about him, he told me that what I wrote about him was mean. "Mean?!?!" I exclaimed "I called you a cutie with every single mention!". "Ya, but I didn't like what you said about me and my spiderman chair" he said. I took a look back at that blog entry, and I could not find anything insulting. I go back to him and told him that I think he misread what I wrote since nothing I wrote could have possibly offended him. I should note that the likelihood of him misreading what I wrote is very high considering my mom lets him do his mandatory reading in front of the television with the television on.  While ironically sitting in his Spiderman throne, two inches from the television. he neglects everything I say. At the dinner table this past Friday night, I asked Sammy if I may blog about him again, since at that age kids make decisions erratically--contingent on whether mom and dad have bought them the latest game. He once again said no, and when I asked why, he said because I was mean. OKAY! "Sam!" I said "Did you even read the entire dam blog?" "Nope" He said "But I didn't like what you said about me and my spiderman chair." Clearly something is going on between Sammy and his Spiderman chair that goes beyond an ordinary sit-stand up relationship. Not gunna ask.

I gave my mom one of those 'Help me out' looks, and she responded with one of those annoyed, leave me alone 'do whatever you want looks.' My dad on the other hand was waving his pom-poms, cheering Sammy on; God forbid I should ever get any support in this household! For some reason I did not feel right writing without my brother's sanction, so dinner continued with me incessantly asking Sammy, and Sammy incessantly responding 'What will you give me?' GRR NO PROGRESS! I have noticed that 'favors' do not exist for kids at that age. Something must always be compensated for their hard, diligent work, and the worst part is that they are past the age where you can no longer convince them into giving you a ten dollar bill in exchange for three quarters. I told Sammy I would give him one dollar, and he, as expected, said no. I then increased my offer; however is response was the same. I jokingly asked "K. One Thousand Dollars". Anyone with a half of brain would surely take this offer; however, Sammy of course said "Nope". Mom, you should really consider turning that television off.

Well my dad was at his limit at this point and decided to completely digress and declare this conversation over. So much authority this man has. Well he and Sammy began practicing a song of prayer titled "Anim Z'Mirot" which we hope he will be prepared for to recite at our cousin's Bat Mitzvah (Celebration at age 12). My dad recites the first verse and tells Sammy to follow. Sammy begins and I assure you with 100% confidence that he did everything besides 'follow'. What came out of his mouth was definitely not in the Prayer book. As the older brother, I BURST out in laughter. I was in one of those moods where I could not stop laughing, and I was accompanied by my mother who, on the contrary, was trying to hold in her laughter. Sensitive Sammy got all upset and Protective daddy came to the rescue "ANDREW GET OUT!" I walked into the conjoining room with the uncontrollable laughter and listened to Sammy continue from a distance.

When Sammy finally learned the concept of 'following', my dad was exhausted. Everyone went upstairs and, as usual, did his/her own thing. My parents lie on total opposite sides of their bed--my dad reading the "History of Something" and my mom reading "5 steps on becoming anorexic". Sammy begins his weekly nuisance with my dad. When my dad had enough Sammy time--I know. Shocking right?--he bounces to my mom's side. Sometimes my mom will embrace him and they will have their inappropriate cuddle time; however, often my mom will disregard him and order him to give her a foot massage. 

Well what does poor Andrew do during this time? Mom and Dad tell him to go to his room. They lock him in his room and tell him not to come out till morning. So Andrew obediently listens. He sits in his room waiting for someone to rescue him--to show him love. *tear* . Nah kidding. All that is self imposed by me. I lock myself in my room and hide from my family. They probably wonder what the hell I do in here but hehe 4th Amendment!

This weekend was different. I went to my room as usual, but after a few minutes stand up and head to my parents room. I shockingly walked into a room where Sammy and my mom were having their inappropriate cuddle time. "Umm am I interrupting something?". My dad gave me a "what the heck are you doing out of your room" emoticon and I awkwardly said "whattuuppp". Well at this point my entire family was looking at me as if I were about to reveal something BIG. Chill out family. "Umm Sammy. Can I blog about you?" I asked. My parents were like ughh and they continued reading their books. "What will you give me?" Sammy asked. hmmm. "I'll tickle your feet!" All kids love a foot rub; though, I personally would have taken the one thousand dollars. He agreed and after ten minutes Sammy granted me the holy sanction that I have been anticipating. He did mention that he would have to review each blog about him before I post it, but I am going to disregard that part for two reasons: 1) He will likely reject everything as 'mean' 2) A text this size will probably take him months to read. 

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Life has been pretty stressful lately. Between the rush of final exams and the pressure of making an Israel decision, I feel like I am going to explode. Oh, did I just mention an Israel decision? Yep. Despite a previous blog entailing my decision to forgo the year, my dad recently had me reconsider other schools. Well I'll keep all 10 of you updated even though I talk to you on a daily basis anyway. Ciao