well, to sum it up, my mom was ultra-perky that saturday. the only good thing about the entire experience was that i got a reeaalllyyy gooooood smoothie. i’m not really big on formal dresses, you see.. so i can’t say i enjoyed the “quality bonding time” with my mother.. in several malls.. surrounded by people.. who were staring at me with quizzical looks.. ugh. i don’t like being in public..

when i got home, my mother forced me to model the dress that she had bought (on sale, she pointed out several times) at some ridiculously pink formal dress shop for my dad.
the thing is about my dad is that… well, he doesn’t notice much of anything. when i came out in the red dress (which, by the way, i felt WAAAAYYYY too prominent in), my dad looked up, said, “hmm,” and went back to the TV. thanks for the support, dad!

when i went to bed that night, i was lying there, and i thought i heard that weird scratching noise coming from my closet again.

i opened the door and my mouth dropped open in awe.

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