Angie: The Smart and Successful One with Great Taste
Fletcher: The Generous and Selfless One with an Awesome Sense of Humor
Chelsea (that's me!): The Lazy, Nerdy One who Hangs out at her Parents' House Way More Often than she Should (I have a bad feeling that I am the black sheep of the family)
Here we are at my wedding, where we are inwardly cringing because the photographer kept telling us to "get closer"...Tudors don't like to show physical affection :)
I also have some in-laws:
Miaka: The Hard-Working and Super Friendly One who is also a Great Mom
Derek: The Independent College Kid who is Very Sweet but Honestly Kind of a Mama's Boy (JK, Derek, you're not) (You are, though. Love you!)
Here are these two, the in-laws, skipping arm in arm at my wedding reception!
Okay. All caught up? Now you'll know who is who in the photos and stories :) Here we go.
*Angie and Fletcher thought it was hilarious when they rolled me up in a blanket, burrito-style, arms pinned to my side...and placed me in a bowl-shaped chair that is difficult to get up out of even when you have full motion of all four limbs. They then left the room, closing the door and turning off the lights on their way out, and giggled their way down the stairs. I stayed there in the dark until someone eventually took pity on me, and then I didn't talk for like three hours. Pretty sure they traumatized me.
*They also thought it was hilarious to talk me into letting them put those "fresh breath" drops (you know, that little bottle of blue liquid that was invented by Satan) on my tongue. I think I recall Fletcher holding my arms back while Angie dripped some of it onto my tongue, and my God, does that stuff burn. I screamed and ran to the bathroom to stick my mouth under the faucet while they laughed and laughed. I'm pretty sure I let them do it at least a couple more times after that, so I kind of had it coming if I was that stupid.
I often wore bib overalls and clogs. Like, all the time. And you'll be seeing several photos featuring this locale - the basement door is always the backdrop for family pictures, for whatever reason. Also, nice jeans, Angie.
*I had this borderline obsessive-compulsive thing when I was little, and I would ask my mom every night if I would have any bad dreams. Literally every night: "Will I have any bad dreams?" She would, of course, respond no, and then I could go to sleep, no problem. And then came the night my brother and sister were told to watch me while Mom and Dad were gone. I laid down on the couch and asked hopefully, "Will I have any bad dreams?" Angie replied, "Yes." "Now go to sleep," Fletcher chimed in.
*My friend and I had just discovered South Park, even though we were only in early elementary school, and we thought Mr. Hankey was absolutely hilarious. We would repeat the "Christmas Poo's" quotes to each other again and again, thinking we were super-cool and eons ahead of our classmates, maturity-wise. I was reading a book aloud to myself at home one day (as most people do in their spare time) and decided it would be really funny to repeat a Mr. Hankey line before each page turn, like the little chime noise in the book and tape sets. The line was, "Hoooowdy ho, boys and girls! You smell an awful lot like flowers!" Said, of course, in that high-pitched voice. Over and over I said it. Eventually, Fletcher emerged from his room, calmly and silently took the book out of my hands, and smacked me over the head with it. Then he gave the book back.
A rare moment of affection between siblings. Take a moment, if you will, to appreciate my ombre jeans (which were also absolutely covered in glitter) and the chain - THE CHAIN! - hanging from my pocket.
This is Fletcher in his hardcore-sideburn stage.
*Angie regularly babysat me on Friday nights when Mom and Dad went out. We would watch TGIF (may it rest in peace), and she would sit and enjoy Sabrina the Teenage Witch with me...up until the last few minutes. This was when she would begin to pretend she had "something wrong with her brain." She would repeat it over and over, while I pretended to roll my eyes but secretly got more and more nervous. Finally, I would go by myself into her room and watch 90210 reruns and cry.
*I distinctly remember trying to put a pair of pants on in my room when I was about 4. Fletcher walked through (my room served as a hallway between his bedroom and the stairs) and pushed me while I still had one leg up, trying to find the leg-hole. Totally caught off guard, I fell all the way over onto the floor with my legs in the air. "HAHAHAHAHAHA," he laughed loudly and kept walking down the stairs.
This is Miaka's favorite photo of her husband. She thinks it is hilarious and wants it made into a poster. So this photo is for her.
*We go on a sibling trip to Adventureland every year, and even though each year we are able to go on fewer and fewer rides (why does getting older mean feeling more nauseous on spinny rides?), it is always fun. A few years ago, we were all on the Raging River and talking about how disgusting the seatbelts always make your hands smell - like wet snowpants and the trays at Taco Tico. I leaned forward to adjust my ass on the slick vinyl seats, and the seatbelt sliced my leg open. For real! Cut right into my leg! "What the hell?!" I yelled as blood started to leak out of the shallow cut, "Can I get AIDS from this seatbelt?!" Miaka, a nurse, burst out laughing, and Fletcher shook his head and said, "Maybe if you wore shorts that were longer than your crotch..." It all sounds very crass and immature, but oh, it was hilarious. An Adventureland ride cut my leg open. We went to the main office to get a bandage - I was honestly hoping for free park tickets or something, but I got nothin'.
I am loving the variety of emotions in this picture. Fletcher is unusually happy (probably due to the Nerf gun he is terrorizing me with), I am unusually sad and sniffly-looking, and Angie is appropriately annoyed with all of it.
*Bachelorette parties are usually all about alcohol, partying, strippers, and penises. Mine was not. My bachelorette party consisted of myself, Angie, and Miaka, and we went to Carlos O'Kelly's (where Angie bought me a daiquiri that I drank approximately 1/4 of) and then to a movie. The movie was Magic Mike, and Angie giggled her way through it like a little schoolgirl, particularly in the scene where Channing dances to "Pony." We ended up going to my house and playing a version of Pin the Tail on the donkey where we had to try to put kiss-shaped stickers on a man's boxer-briefed nether regions...while watching Saved by the Bell: Zack and Kelly's Wedding. It was all very classy.
*I know I have made it sound like my siblings and I kind of hate each other, but that is not at all the case. They were just much older than me and took advantage of that by picking on me...as older siblings tend to do. But we are very close, as far as siblings go. We share the same sense of humor (much of it poop- and fart-related), a hatred of the words "sack" and "stain", a weird avoidance of brown or yellow towels, and a love for many of the same movies and movie quotes - except, Fletcher, I will never enjoy Shawshank. Sorry. They are all pretty awesome.
(Angie, Fletcher and my adorable niece Audrey, Miaka, Jared, and me) Yes, Angie and I are wearing the same shirt. I tend to blatantly rip off many of her style choices. She hates it. This roller-skating party is also an annual thing, since Angie is nostalgically obsessed with Roller City. All the One-Direction-listening little kids looked around in confusion when we requested Marky Mark's Good Vibrations. Fletcher, in particular, enjoyed his time roller-skating, even refusing to leave until the place closed. It was weird, as he is not really the skating type.
Happy National Siblings Day! :)