I know that my Sister knows about my blog. My Sister, who has never once not squealed me out to Mom and Dad, even though I know some of her deepest and darkest and have never, nor will ever tell. I do hope it was you reading my blog last night from Mom's computer, and not Mom or Dad. Actually Dad might be ok, but mom..sheesh. I know they told you I was writing, and I knew at some point the poop would hit the fan. Because if there's anything we know how to do, it's enable the poop to fly and fly high.
So dear Sister, if it was in fact you, please at least have had the decency to erase the cookies and history on Mom's browser, or I will have to do it in the morning before Daddy drives me to get my googly eyeballs looked at.
Dad, I know it wasn't you, because no offense, you are kind of dumb sometimes.
Mom, there is a good chance it could be you, because anything that has ever involved your kids being secretive or you feeling maligned usually results in you being snoopy, and not realizing that that is precisely why you have secretive kids, because you do feel maligned and are snoopy. The fact someone decidely decided to check the tag "We put the fun in dysfunctional" is raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.
Yes, I was stupid, and took a big risk when it was found I wrote online in some sort of fashion to not just go private or delete my blog. And I think yet again this just shows me there are reasons I do write online in secret and not tell any of you about it. Oh, I do love my self esteem and trust issues.
So, hope it was fun and productive for you, whomever you are, my family member. Hope you learned that I am scared and sad and confused and angry and goofy and happy and capable of loving and capable of loving and trusting the wrong people and that I have, or had, a sex life and I eat way to much chocolate for my own good and that being in this family makes me stronger and sadder and more loving and more scared of loving and happier and goofier and more trusting and less trusting.
You people are crazy. This is how I get my crazy out.
So please leave me alone and let me just share what I want to because that's what I need to share, or I'll suck it all back in and I'll get bitten on the toes by that great Snapping Turtle that is life. And then, dear Sister, I'll have to come live in YOUR basement.