High school isn't all that different when you compare it to middle and elementary school. The only difference? You can get away with a lot more. There was this kid, Jared Fletcher I think, who everyone thinks is a total monster. I don't know why and I've never bothered to find out. All I know is that he made prime pickings for the mean streak I try to avoid showing off at home. The year came and went quickly and before I knew it, it was summer vacation. A lot changed in the hot months.
For starters, Parsley turned eight. He's starting elementary school now.
I'd like to say my relationship with the kid has improved considerably since his baby days, but I'd be lying. We don't get along, especially not since his newest hobby includes... you guessed it! The computer! Parsley seems to have picked up mom's love for writing because that's all the boy does. He just sits in front of the blinding computer screen, clacking away at the keyboard for hours on end. I don't know what kind of stories an eight-year-old boy can come up with, but our parents - mom in particular - really encourage this new hobby of his.
Parsley isn't the only one picking up new hobbies though. For once in her life, Cinnamon is doing something that I wholeheartedly approve of. I don't really care much for astrology, but she's finally left the wretched computer in favor of spending her nights outside, staring into the starry sky of Sunset Valley. In fact, she only ever comes inside to use the computer whenever she thinks she's come across a constellation that she doesn't recognize.
But stargazing isn't the only thing Cinn's picked up. As a gift for having excellent grades, mom and dad bought her a brand new guitar. They would've bought me one, too, but I'd declined their offer. I don't need a guitar. Sure, I love music like any other normal teenager, but it's Cinn who has the patience to actually try learning how to play. I have to admit, she's not half bad. You can hear her twanging away all day long and, although she was pretty awful at first, she's gotten the hang of it. She can actually play a few simple melodies now. I'm hoping she improves faster though seeing as there's only so many times you can hear the same rhythm over and over again.
As for me? I've started my own number of hobbies and interests. For starters, I don't wanna be idle. Sure, my parents work and all and they get their fair share of running around, but aside from the occasional hobby that has them on their feet, all they do is laze around. I'm not criticizing them - not too badly - but I think that they'll regret being so out of shape when they get older. So I've started working out. Most days, I visit the gym or jog around the city but when it's just too hot to even set foot outside, I figured it's okay to tolerate the stereo. I just turn it onto an upbeat station and spend at least two hours a day stretching and toning my body.
Apart from looking frickin' hot, I think this will benefit me in the future.
But much as I love working out, I don't have the stamina or the will to devote more time to it. So in my cooling periods, I read a lot. Mom might encourage me to read more if I were actually reading things that interest her such as news stories or maybe even fantasy books like the ones that Parsley seems so intent on writing. But I don't care for those kinds of things. I'm a no-nonsense kind of girl.
So I spend my nights (and occasionally my mornings) reading a lot of how-to books. So far, it's dad who really supports my preferred genres. I think though that it has to do with what I said last time. About being one of the only kids who has shown a real interest in cooking. I'm picking up a lot of tips on dishes and I've been itching to try them out.
Thankfully, dad's a really good teacher. More and more kids seem intent on hurting themselves skateboarding - resulting in broken bones that sometimes require surgery to set right - or fishing, in which too many youngsters come in with hooks piercing their skin, which tires my dad out. He comes home late sometimes and is almost always on call. Still, despite all that, he's patient and spends a great deal of time with me in the kitchen.
Dad has looked over my culinary books and started with the basics of cooking, teaching me how to dice fruits and vegetables and stuff like that. He'll cook an entire dish with me watching like a hawk. Afterward, it's my turn to replicate his moves and although my food doesn't always turn out as delicious as his does, I'm starting to get a hang of things.
The majority of fruits and vegetables I practice on come from the garden. Sometimes, when I don't have the patience to wait for dad to come home and pick the fruits, I've taken to going outside and observing the plants myself. In the solitary hours of staring and analyzing and then slowly just enjoying being outside, I seem to have cultivated an interest in gardening. There's something soothing about having my feet sink into the rich soil, being surrounded by luscious green plants and succulent fruits and vegetables, just begging to be plucked from their corresponding vines or branches. A good deal of my how-to books switched from work-out routines and favorable exercises to gardening books. I slowly learned to recognize the subtle differences between a perfect fruit and an acceptable fruit, which at first had all looked the same to me.
One would think that my mother, always busy on the telephone or typing away at the computer upstairs or even spending so many hours at work, would not notice the changes in my day-to-day routine. Surprisingly enough though, she did.
As she received phone calls ranging from asking opinions on the latest articles her firm had yet to publish or made calls to the maid services in order to request a maid for our own home, she would watch me toiling out in the garden through the window.
Even as she wrote her articles or revised her employee's words, she would grow distracted.
One night, as I took up the rusty watering can which had been in my family for several generations, I was surprised to hear soft footsteps padding lightly against the soil followed by the sound of water trickling onto the leaves of a tomato plant.
"Mom?" I asked, surprised. I rarely saw her outside anymore, not since she'd been promoted at work, even though it had been her idea to revive the old garden.
She looked up from the plant. "I figured you might want some company out here. It's good of you to have kept up the gardening when I forgot to."
I said nothing. It was the first time I'd been complimented by my mom. Usually she complained about my lack of shared interests with her. She never called me a bad kid or anything, but it still didn't improve our relationship. At her words though, I merely shrugged. "I like gardening."
"I do too." Mom replied, moving onto the next plant. She fingered the leaves tenderly. In that moment, I learned that my mom could be another teacher to me. Just as dad taught me about cooking, mom could teach me far more about gardening than the books I was reading could. "If you want, you can leave the rest to me, Chocolate. I imagine you might be a little busy in a few minutes."
Puzzled, I looked up at her. Mom had a big smile on her face as she gestured toward the front yard. I put the watering can down and peeked around the corner of the house. There, on the lawn, was a car. A car that neither of my parents drove. A car I'd never seen before. I looked at her incredulously.
"It's for you and Cinnamon, but I figure you might wanna take it for a test drive first." With a wink, mom dug into her pockets and fished out a pair of keys. She tossed them lightly toward me. I was so surprised, it was only my finely tuned reflexes that enabled me to catch them. "Go on." Mom urged.
"Thanks!" I managed before running toward the car. I slid into the leather seat, inhaling the new car smell. Then I inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, reveling in the sound of the engine's purr. I carefully reversed out into the street and grinned. Oh the possibilities were endless. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going, but I'm definitely taking advantage of this.
