First off, before you read this, let me tell you that my family isn’t all that bad. Half of them have beer guts while the other half are rich, stuck up snobs. It’s not as bad as it sounds; I barely ever see any of them. Anyway, on to the story.

I was at the store with my parents and baby brother while my dad started a fight with my mom about how there was no difference between regular spaghetti noodles and angel hair noodles. My mom didn’t like that, so she went on a rant. My little brother, Chaz, clearly didn’t want to sit through the third rant from my mother that morning so he wandered off. When I noticed he was gone, I followed him to bring him back. It was very interesting when I found him.

Chaz was sitting in a kiddy pool, naked, covered in sticky Cheerios. That’s not even the weirdest part. He was watching The Titanic on one of the television screens in the store and crying, screaming “No, Rose! You said you wouldn’t let go!”

I sighed and picked him up, running him quickly to the ladies’ bathroom. I cleaned him up and put his clothes back on, a blush rising up to my face. I was hoping that nobody saw, but judging by the looks I got a passersby, I figured they did.
I carefully walked back to my parents with Chaz, seeing that they were just now finishing their very important pasta argument. I sighed in relief and rolled my eyes. I clung on to him tightly, not letting him move. I’d never been any more embarrassed in my whole life.