Three Words, I Love You ✔️

03: Bold of you to assume that I don't care

|03: Bold of you to assume that I don't care|

Utter chaos.

You would think that as a household with only three people and one pet, there wouldn't be this much trouble at this early in the morning. You would think everyone would be still be resting, or at least moving around quietly.

When I woke and put my hearing aids in, I was greeted with my grandpa screaming his iconic 'Motherfucker!' at the top of his lungs. Which was then followed by Juju, my St. Bernard doggo, barking his head off.

Then that was followed by Mom not so kindly yelling at Grandpa to 'shut his trap'. And they're still downstairs being louder than ever.

Keep in mind, it's four-thirty in the morning. We have neighbors. Neighbors who sleep during this time. I wouldn't blame them if they hated our guts.

So here I am, sitting criss-crossed on my bed, slowly starting to regret ever turning on the devices that allow me to hear such madness. My hair is a mess, my breath is horrid. All I want is to take my shower and do my makeup.

I lick my chapped lips, staring at my bedroom door which was cracked ever so slightly. My eyes were barely open since I was still trying to wake myself up. Soft light seeps into my room from the outside hall.

"Dad! Get off the- YOU ARE GOING TO FALL!" Mom screams as a scratching noise is heard.

"Child, get your filfty hands off of me!" Grandpa yells back, "I can do- oh shit!"

As soon as my Grandpa yelled those words, a soft thump and a couple yells were heard immediately after.

I sigh.

"I told you not to do that! Now look at you!" Mom yells, "You aren't strong enough to do things like this anymore, Dad!"

"Child... yell at me one more time and see what happens..."

"It's not like you can do anything, your ass is pert near over your head!"

I sigh again.

Stretching my tired limbs, I crawl out of the warmth of my bed. My fluffy socks protect my feet from the cold floor as I make my way across it.

I sleep with socks on (sue me) because Mom and Grandpa thought it was a good idea that I should get the room with A) Wooden floors, and B) The coldest temperature that never changes, no matter how high we turn the heater up to.

Instead of complaining to them, I just wear warm and fluffy pajamas to bed.

As I trudge down the stairs, I could hear Grandpa cursing at Mom.

"Motherfucker, are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?!"

"What makes you think I can help you? I'm wearing heels!"

Stopping on the last step, I crane my neck to see into the kitchen. Juju immediately noticed my presence and started wagging his tail.

Nothing about that surprised me... until I noticed he was standing on the kitchen counter.

With a frown, I walk into the living room where all the ruckus was taking place. Mom was pacing around the living room, while Grandpa was just lying on the floor. His cane was all the way across the living room by the kitchen entrance.

Grandpa did, in fact, have his butt nearly over his head. It was uncomfortable to look at so I can't even imagine the pain he was in.

As Mom turns in my direction, her eyes settle on me. She steps over Grandpa's body, her heels clicking against the floor as she does.