My whole family always tries to open my closed door really fast and catch me at something.
What that something is, though, I have no clue.
Instance A.
::Door flung open::
Mom:Stefanie! What ARE you doing?
::I am obviously doing school work at my desk::
Me: I'm writing a love letter to prison inmate #287904. Not that my passionate affair with Big Moe is any of your business.
Instance B.
::Door slung open::
Sister: Yo Nerd. What are you doing on the computer?
::obviously listening to illegally downloaded music just like the rest of america's youth::
Me: Selling your car on ebay because you ate the last of the poptarts, poopface. Now go, I say, go!
Instance C
::Door pushed open::
Dad: Stef, I need you to do som-Hey, what are you doing with all that?
::Obviously re-organizing closet and drawers for fall clothing.::
Me: I'm trying to remember where I stashed my pot. It's hard to remember with all the ecxtasy I have been taking. My memory just goes straight down to ...somewhere, I forget.
What is up with them today?
Maybe I should jusut come up with a deviant little plan to humor them, since they think I am up to no good, anyway.
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