12/17/12
"Don't forget Sinklair!" she screams. She
being the daughter of my brother's girlfriend. In a way, she is my
niece. So it wouldn't be completely wrong to say, my nieces always
remember me.
My sister's daughter is a baby. She
screams with glee whenever she sees me, and she glances my way and
smiles. The toddler crawls after me and even imitates what I'm doing.
I
guess, it's to be expected. They're both a lot newer to the family and
don't really understand. I'm the ignored one. Everyone forgets about me.
It's like I don't exist sometimes. It could be worse. But this is the
life I was given. To be forgotten by all except my nieces (and maybe one
day nephews).
I'm not going to give you all a
depressing story about how I wish I could be noticed or how I resent my
sister for always being in the spotlight. No. I'll tell you about the
benefits of being ignored.
For one, no one asks me to
do things all the time. If anyone does ask something of me, it's
normally small and not too hard. Though that can get annoying because on
the rare occasion I am handed something important and "big," no one
trusts me to do it right. But it does get out of doing a lot of work...
unlike my sister, who is always asked to do stuff.
I
can also walk downstairs. No, there's more. I can walk down stairs and
make myself a peanut butter sandwich with cheerios and apple slices and
sour cream and sugar. It would taste terrible, but I could do it without
anyone asking why.
Then again, maybe I'm ignored because they have grown so accustomed to my insanity that it no longer makes a difference.
Maybe they actually notice me and pretend that they didn't.
Maybe they all have really short attention spans.
Maybe I should stop trying to rationalize this and go and do homework.
It's a Monday.
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