So I’m sitting in my living room after a long Christmas break. Technically break isn’t over yet, my sister and I are still home but my dad is at work at this point of vacation, bringing to light mine and my sister’s impending doom of having to go back to school in a mere five days. Jerry Springer plays noisily on the TV I’m not watching having been distracted by the vast pool of knowledge Google offers. So I’m in the middle of reading a riveting article on the difference between a pie and a cobbler when my sister comes around the corner and says,“You know, I wish dad would have taken my advice and gotten us those full length mirrors,” just as non-chalant as if she were saying it was raining outside.
After having gotten everything we wanted for Christmas and more, I’m just struck down like she slapped me across the face. At this point in our lives I had thought I’d taught her the virtue of being grateful. I’m now scanning my memory wondering where I went wrong and trying to figure out a way to fix whatever mistake was made. Her thank yous had always been a direct mimic of mine; she always displayed the characteristics of a rare type of child nowadays that used their manners and didn’t go out of her way to be such a pain in the ass so as to make our parents just give her whatever she wants. So you can understand my surprise when these words came out of her mouth. After reprimanding her and telling her how rude and ungrateful she sounded by saying that, especially after Christmas, I got to thinking of how ungrateful everyone is about something or other. I for example, am not particularly grateful for school about 98% of the time. Though I should be because when I think about it, women fought to be able to attend regular school, rather than be stuck in etiquette class (although I don’t think that would be too bad of an idea for some girls at my school to have to take). It’s not uncommon for you to see me trudging through the hallways looking more like a dead troll doll than a teenage girl. Sometimes the thought of sitting in class for eight hours a day getting the opportunity to learn the math behind building a rocket and discussing the federal bureaucracy seems like a horrible alternative to say, getting murdered by Leatherface. Doesn’t that constitute me as ungrateful? I’m sitting here getting handed all of this lovely information that will give me the chance to get into a rather prestigious university (because who doesn’t know the math behind building a rocket at the University of Michigan? Come on, it’s basic knowledge) and I’m just resenting it rather than taking as much of it in as quite humanly possible. I’m just as guilty of not being grateful for everything I have as my poor sister who merely wants a mirror. We all are. No matter who you are, you take something for granted or wish you had more. But I guess that’s okay, in some cases, if it gets excessive you might want to see somebody, or chances are you’re just a complete waste of skin. In that case please escort yourself to the nearest cliff and have fun jumping because there is no hope for you at all. So, rather than let Gabby feel like she’s a terrible person who deserves to rot in hell, I go and apologize for judging her too harshly on her comment and I tell her maybe she has some validity within it, but we can’t have everything because then what would there be to live for? She then tells me I’m right and we go about our day. And I know that even though I’m not going to like going back to school in five days, I’ll at least be a bit more appreciative and maybe share with my friends what the difference between a pie and cobbler is, because that’s something we aren’t taught in school anymore.