Under the stars

This piece was written for the Tipsy Lit Prompted Challenge: Family Games Night.

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Dear Lottie,

This is worse than we ever imagined. Not only am I expected to sleep on the ground next to Snotface, but there is no phone signal anywhere in this god forsaken shit hole. I mean that literally, the place stinks of shit. Mom reckons it’s the heat, and being downwind of the toilet block.

I was assured of hot showers, I was promised at least that. Well, I guess they exist, but they are so hot they would burn my skin off if I dared stand under the jet. So now I stink too. I am not stripping off at a tiny sink in front of strangers.

My clothes are covered in dust and juice, yes juice. Snotface set her sippy cup sideways on my open bag, can you believe that? She could wake the dead with her screams if I dare go near her stupid toys, and then I’m told not to fuss when everything I have is smeared with her sticky goo.

And every evening, every god damn evening after supper they think it’s ‘fun’ to play board games. This is not fun guys. Fun would be driving down town to catch a movie, or eating out once in a while. But no, Snotface needs her beddy byes, Snotface has allergies. Why the hell did they bring her camping if she might die if she ingests anything that tastes halfway decent? I refuse to eat the slop they concoct each night, and then I’m told that I’m the one being difficult! Jeez.

So I’m sitting here writing a letter while they play games and moan that I’m not getting in the spirit of things. Listen up you lovestruck ninnies, this is not a spirit that I want anything to do with. It’s not as if they play properly anyway. They let Snotface cheat and tell her she’s won to stop her whining, although she whines plenty whatever we do. She’s already run off with half the playing pieces and lost them god knows where.

Can you believe that I am writing an actual letter? I haven’t done this since sixth grade. Snotface was so not going to let me take a sheet of her precious scribble pad, but the boyfriend bribed her with my cookie. He then had the nerve to ask if I would babysit one evening so that he and Mom could go down town! I made it quite clear that if anyone was going down town then I was going too, which made Mom yell. She thinks I’m selfish? Woman, go look in a mirror.

Family games night used to be fun when it was Dad and Andy instead of this loser and his leaky sprog. There is no way I am going to play along with their little charade of happy families. If they want to remind me how much I miss Dad then this is how to do it.

Anyways, if I can’t persuade them to pack up early then we’ll be home a week Thursday. Could I come over to yours for a sleepover?

I miss you guys.

Cass. xx




5 thoughts on “Under the stars

  1. Pingback: Polling Prompted: Family Game Night | Tipsy Lit

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