Slightly crazy, but always more fun.

Every family has one child who claims to be perfect. In my family, my little sister Lindsey fills that slot. Every time we tell stories from our childhood she always says, “Lily you were such an annoying little kid. I was a perfect baby. I was the best.” Granted, she was a good baby. She didn’t cry much, she slept through the night, and she was easy to handle. I suppose that’s as close to perfect as a baby can get. But you have to admit, where’s the fun without the challenge? When I was little, I was a lot to handle. I was that kid that just wanted to do whatever she wanted. My mom always tells me about this one time when I was really little- maybe 3 years old. I wanted to play with the VCR and my mom told me to stop touching it. And I did- for about 20 seconds, and then I went right back to pressing buttons. She would tell me again to stop and the circle repeated until my mom finally got fed up and moved the VCR too high for me to reach. So you can see that Lindsey does have a point- even I will admit that I was, and still am sometimes, kind of annoying. I have Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD) so I was constantly hyper and wanted to play, but as stubborn as I was, I only wanted to play my way. Nevertheless, every time Lindsey announces her perfection as a child I always respond, “Yeah, I’m slightly crazy, but always more fun.”
I’ve always had a big imagination, and always expected my fantasies to live up to reality. Needless to say, I was disappointed quite often. When we first moved into the house I live in now, there was a loft above the garage. That loft was my fantasy world. Sometimes it was my mansion, sometimes it was an underwater utopia. My favorite game to play was that my house was a rainforest and the loft was a giant tree house that I had built at the top of the tallest tree. The entrance was a door at the bottom of the tree, which was hollowed out for stairs that lead to the top. In my mind I towered above the rain forest in my tree house and lived my life collecting food from the trees and talking to the animals. I played this game over and over again, coming up with every scenario I could think of and playing it out with different endings. Sometimes my family would get annoyed with me because I was in my own little world, but my own little world was so much more fun than cleaning my room or whatever it was that they were telling me to do.
I spent a lot of my time when I was young running around the house, bugging my sisters, and shouting out whatever was on my mind, simply to burn off excess energy. For a while when I was young I shared a room with my older sister, Kaleigh. I would always talk to her as I fell asleep at night. I remember one night I had something to tell Kaleigh that I felt was of the utmost importance, but she had already fallen asleep. Because of the particular importance of what I had to say, I felt it was necessary to wake her. Of course, being who I am, the thought of shaking her awake never crossed my mind. Instead I crawled out of my bed, walked across the room, grabbed a handful of her hair, and gave it two swift yanks. Annoying? Yes, but I definitely had fun doing it.
I could tell you countless stories to emphasize my point. I could tell you about how I would wake up before my parents in the morning and burst into their room demanding, “Where’s my breakfast!” or how late at night I would sneak into their bedroom with my blanket over my head giggling, “You can’t see me!” I could tell you how I used to be so offended when people would call me Lillian- I took it as an insult, although now I can’t remember why. I could tell you about my childish misperceptions, or how I reacted to all the great injustices my sisters committed against me, however, I think it’s already clear that although I’m slightly crazy, I’m always more fun.

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