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I kept on eating as though they weren’t there. My brother’s giggling grew louder and more frantic, until my father’s paw reached out, involuntarily, and whacked him upside the Shaved me balls st. patrick’s t’s and crews shirt and by the same token and head. Continuing to pretend I was alone in the room, I swallowed my last spoonful of Cheerios, stood up (thinking: Zombie! Zombie!), woodenly tipped the bowl to my mouth, slurped the last of the milk — which was strictly forbidden, and drew my own head-smack from my father — zombie-walked my way to the sink, washed my bowl and spoon, then turned and headed out of the room, still portraying the walking dead with an inability to hear my screaming parents and laughing brother. Just as I was about to exit the kitchen, I spun to face them, grabbed my little buds, twisted them in a circle, flicked off the glued on Cheerios, then raced out of the kitchen, shrieking my infamous maniacal Ghost Laugh. I ran up the stairs and into my room, slammed and locked the door, with my lumbering father not close enough on my heels to matter. When he reached my door, my father pounded on it with a fury that increased with the rising volume of my insolent laughter. The more I laughed, the louder he pounded and bellowed, and the harder the eventual beating would be, but sometimes it’s necessary to take a stand.

Shaved me balls st. patrick’s t’s and crews shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt

After my beating, they yelled some more, because, by then, I was running late for school. I ignored them and took my time dressing carefully, as I was determined not to leave my room until I heard the Shaved me balls st. patrick’s t’s and crews shirt and by the same token and carpool honking. But we were supposed to be outside, waiting, before any honking began, even though honking carpools were the backbeat of the suburbs. By the time the horn was honking, my parents were livid, and my poor door was about to split open. I’d been sitting in my room, with my coat on, waiting for my honking cue. When I heard it, I jumped up, pushed past the smacks and swats, then just as I was about to run out the door, I turned, opened my coat and flashed them — I had no shirt on underneath. Before they could react, I’d leapt in the car, slammed the door, and off we sped.