Welcome to my life

So. Since my URL thing says "Welcome to my life," I'm going to have to show you my life, ain't I? I'll start from the begging and tell you more as time goes on.


So. November 22, 1994, I was brought into the world. I was born with two loving parents, two sisters that constantly fought over me, two sets of grandparents who adored me, an aunt and an uncle that didn't live too far away, their son (my cousin) Andy, and a bunch of other aunts and uncles and cousins who I rarely ever spent time with. Let's back it up.

My parents had just moved from Texas, where they had lived for about 2 years. This is where Megan was born and Michelle, for the most part, was raised. (She was born in Florida) When they moved to Illinois, they had nowhere to stay, so they moved in with my grandma and grandpa on my dad's side to the house where my father had grown up in. They lived there for a while, and then I was born.

One of our favorite and most frequently visited memories from when I was an infant, was one in which Michelle, who was six at the time of my birth, went up to my mom and said in her cute Texan accent "I wanna hold the baby!" Megan, who had just turned two years old, replied by saying "No! No! It's mine!" This very moment was captured on film and watched on my birthday every year. Unfortunately, the last time I would ever see this video was on my 9th birthday.

I have more memories from my days before school then anyone else in my family has. I remember only the stupid insignificant moments, but these moments are the ones that I miss. For example, The Lion King was my sister's and my favorite movie. And as children with wild imaginations, we began to play lions. Yes, like every young girl, my sisters and I still loved to play house, but playing lions is what my early years revolved upon, so many of my memories are based on my time spent all four legs on the floor, pretending to claw Megan's eyes out.

One specific memory of this, was after the second movie had come out. Michelle, being four years older than Megan and six years older than me, was always bigger than us, but it had come to the point that she couldn't get down on all fours without her butt sticking high in the air. I do believe that this was the last time she played lion with us.

Michelle, as always, was playing Kiara and Megan was playing Kovu. Michelle, being the oldest, got first dibs on which character she was to be and Megan got to pick second. I never got to pick. There were several characters I could have chosen from, but they always picked for me. I still don't know why I let them boss me around. Anyways. This particular time, I was playing Simba, Kiara's dying father. But that was only the beginning. I lay on the bottom bunk bed (my bed) pretending to die as "Kiara" awkwardly ran towards me, making a big deal about my death. But after a while, they moved on to play the rest of the game without me. Of course, I would ask them every twenty seconds when I was allowed to get up and stop being dead. Each time, they would answer the same; I was dead! Dead lions couldn't just get up and roam around! And so I waited until they got bored to join them again. It was a shame that "we" stopped playing with less than a minute to my bed time.

Too soon, our little trio of lions turned to a duo. Megan and I, the remaining lions, soon adopted the kitchen as the "lake", the living room as my "house" and the bedroom Megan and I shared as her "house". We would have constant "battles" over silly things, like being at the "lake" at the same time, teaching our "cubs" how to swim. It was fun, but our little fake battles usually ended in real fights. Fights that involved hair pulling, lost breath, and nail marks dug deep into skin. Still, five minutes later, we'd be back at the "lake" teaching our stuffed animals how to doggy paddle.