Occupations

Just a little back story and a tease. Dad assigned us occupations for things that happened around the house. If The Brother or I broke something we were "blacksmiths". Actually @!$#$%#$ blacksmiths. If you rummaged through someone's stuff, you were a fisherman.

Wordless Wednesday

The Apple

While waiting in line at the WPI orientation barbecue, a woman standing next to us remarked how the Young One and I look like twins. We smiled politely and when she went ahead, we just looked at each other and shook our heads. Other than height and color of our eyes, we don't look a thing alike. The Young One has fair skin, a sprinkling of cinnamon freckles across her nose, and auburn hair. My skin tone is swarthy Italian. My hair is dark brown bordering on black with a fair amount of silver, and I don't have freckles across the bridge of my nose. The Young One is a carbon copy of Himself. The Young One and I do enjoy some of the same activities. Art, movies, electronics, sense of humor

"You don't look a thing like me." We laughed.

"No, but I have your soul."

"Poor you."

"No, poor you. It means that Grandma's curse that you would have one just like you came true."

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

OMG!

OMG! Auntie Rose called this morning, and I missed the call. The Witch didn't leave a voicemail.

The Sound

As a dutiful Janet, I've been filling out forms for Dad. Not sure if he can't be bothered filling them out, can't see to fill them out, or has a hard time understanding them.

I filled out a form and brought it back for his signature. Showed him where I needed his John Hancock and handed him a pen.

"Isn't there a way you could sign my name so we didn't have to do this?" Dad whined

"Yeah, there is."

"How?"

"The only way my signature would be accepted as yours, would be for you to give me power of attorney."

I heard crickets.