The other day I was reminiscing about 'the good ole days'.  When they started being called the good ole days for me,  since I'm sixteen,  I do not know.  I've listened to many parents talk about their kids growing up too fast,  how they remember like yesterday their teenager was just starting to crawl. 

My sister turned nineteen on June eighth.

Last year,  she turned fourteen (not really,  but you get my point).  I remember when she was five inchs taller than me,  and we'd playfight together.  She usually beat the crap out of me,  as I was quite the little weakling,  having been spoiled like crazy by the best mother in the universe.  It was more of a "I'm your big sister and I beat you up in a 'I love you' kind of playfight" kind of way,  not abusive or anything like it.  She'd 'charlie horse' me on the leg,  which,  in case no one knows,  is where you karate chop someone's leg and the muscle jumps.  I'd cry everytime,  because that hurt.  I did have some bruises.  Dad continued to tell her,  "He's gonna be bigger than you someday,  you better be nice to him."  I was about four-foot-eight then,  at eleven years of age,  and Lindsey was about five inchs taller then me,  and three years older.  She is still three years older,  and now about three inchs shorter.  She always said,  "I'm always gonna be stronger than he is,  taller,  and smarter.  Always."

She's now shorter,  and a little weaker,  but since she's a girl,  and all girls are smarter than guys,  she's still smarter than I am.  (For guys who never knew,  that's your piece of advice,  remember that all girls are smarter than guys).

I can hardly believe my one and a half year old sister is walking and jabbering,  but she is.  It seems like only yesterday she was laying on her back giggling when she was tickled.  I remember like yesterday when my older brother,  at nineteen,  got his first car,  a 1983 Toyota Celica.  Now he's twenty five years old.  And has a job.  And hates it.  And is trying to sell one car so he can afford the payments on his truck.

I remember when my oldest sister lived with us,  about five years ago.  She's moved out now,  with two kids and a boyfriend.  I miss having her around,  having her fuss at us. 

I remember going to the park as a kid,  playing on everything.  We'd throw sand in each other's eyes,  go so fast down the steel slide that our blue jeans almost caught fire,  jump off the see-saw while someone else was still on it,  it was pretty funny seeing their face when it hit the ground.  They walked like a penguin for a while,  which was very entertaining. 

Life is far too short to care what others think of you.  Far too short to worry about your looks,  or your weight,  or bills.

Life is over before you know it.  You will look at your kids,  blink,  and they've grown up.  You will miss all the screaming,  sleepless nights,  and spending lots of money just for them. 

Take your time growing up,  you have all the time in the world to grow up,  but you can never go back.

It was so much easier being little. 

*Sigh*

I miss being a kid.

Ehrm,  that last entry apparently got hit by my mouse and set to public without me noticing.  I was going to make an awesome post with that.  Sorry about that.

Dang.

A woman was reporting her car as stolen, and mentioned that there was a car phone in it. The policeman taking the report called the phone and told the man that answered that he had read the ad in the newspaper and wanted to buy the car. They arranged to meet, and the thief was arrested.

Did the thief's reaction make sense?  Would you have sold the car?

1.  Parrots are good deer hunting scouts.

Example:  You are walking through the woods,  itching to find the perfect buck.  Your little parrot buddy spies it first.  "Hey,  boss,  there he is."  You aim your rifle,  preparing to fire upon this awesome target that you are so lucky to come upon.  Your parrot:  "RUN!  HE'S TRYING TO KILL YOU,  YOU IDIOT!!"

Makes for a good challenge.

2. Parrots are there to console you when you lose your boyfriend/girlfriend.

Example:  You're sitting curled up on your bed, hugging your knees and crying.  You miss Bubba/Mary Beth very much.  Your parrot:  "Ah,  shaddup!  No one cares about him/her anyway."  You then slap your parrot upside his head.  He pecks you in return.  Since it's handy,  you grab your pillow and beat the living daylights out of him.  And this cheers you up without realizing so.

Who needs Bubba/Mary Beth when you have a parrot?

3.  Parrots are always loyal companions.

Parrots will accompany you on walks.  Unless they don't want to.

Parrots will always be good "guard dogs."

Parrots live a very long time.

Who did you think taught Chuck Norris?

Um.

4.  Parrots have built-in zombie sensors.

REALLY.  Don't ask how I know.

No telling how many lives have been saved worldwide because these humble birds sensed a zombie before a human did. 

5.  Parrots stay wide awake and pay close attention to everything.

They are always on the alert for anything wrong,  and put their lives before everyone else's.

Serious.

6.  Parrots can talk better than some humans.

How's that?  You will never hear a parrot say "pwned."

It is rumored parrots wrote the dictionary.

Parrots have the best ways of starting a promising conversation. 

Example:  "You butt is on fire."

If that does not start someone talking,  you should have lit several people's pants on fire.

7.  Parrots come in all sizes.

You can get parrots bigger than grizzly bears* or smaller than your thumb.*

8.  Parrots are cooler than pirates.

Have you ever seen a parrot carry a pirate on his shoulder,  instead of the other way around?  I didn't think so.

9.  Parrots are ten times cooler than dogs and cats COMBINED.

People don't put parrots on leashes,  because parrots are too cool for that.

10.  Parrots can blog for you.

I will take this time to introduce myself.  I have been blogging here for a year and a half now.  I am possibly the only parrot to ever get featured.  My name is Bob.  I hate my owner for naming me Bob,  I know he could have come up with something better.  Which is why I set mousetraps all over the floor for when he gets out of bed,  that lazy sack of bones.

Pwned.

*Live parrots really don't get that big.

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