"Come on, Mark!" shouted Lyndsea through the bathroom door. "I need to make myself look good for school!"
         "Well, for you, that's gonna to take a while," Mark yelled back. "That's why I got in here first!"
         "Ugh! Just hurry up!"
         "Hold on! I still gotta shave!"
         "Well, I'm sure I won't take as long as you to take a shower!"
         "No, you're right. You'd take longer," Mark said laughing.
         "How long does it take a guy to take a shower?! Seriously!"
         "Well, it takes a while because guys have an extra part they need to-"
         "Ewww, Mark! I didn't want to know about that!"
         "Well, I'm almost done."
         "Good!" Lyndsea could hear her brother walking around in the bathroom. "He'd better have a towel around him when he comes out," she said to herself. "Either that or some clothes on."
         "All right, I'm coming out!" he shouted.
         "Finally," Lyndsea groaned. Mark opened the door slowly and peeked out.
         "Just so you know, I don't have any clothes on," he said with a grin.
         "A towel's fine. Just get out so I can take a shower."
         Mark came out, his dark brown hair still a little wet. He shook his head violently to dry it. Lyndsea ran into the bathroom, trying to avoid getting soaked. Mark just laughed and headed to his bedroom. It was the second door on the left. He opened it casually and stepped inside. He went over to his dresser and picked out some blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and grabbed another shirt from his closet. It was a long-sleeved white button-up shirt. Mark preferred to wear those kinds of shirts unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He grabbed the comb that was on the nightstand and fixed his hair. Before changing his clothes, he put on some Axe® deodorant. He put on the blue-jeans, and grabbed a belt from the closet. He liked to wear his pants a little below his waist, but he wasn't one of the "gangster-wanna-bes". The girls seemed to like his style. He could tell because he always noticed at least one of them looking at him as he passes them in the hallway. Mark put the white shirt on, fixed it the way he liked it, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. His mother was there making his breakfast.
         "Good morning, honey," Mom greeted him warmly. "How d'you sleep?"
         "All right, I guess," he replied.
         "Well, here's an egg, some bacon, and some buttered toast for breakfast."
         "Great! It looks delicious."
         "What were you and Lyndsea arguing about upstairs?"
         "Oh, she's just mad because I got to the shower before her, so she had to wait."
         "I wish you two would stop fighting and get along better."
         "I don't think we'll ever get along."
         "Sometimes you have to see life through the other person's point of view to get along."
         "Like that'll ever happen," Mark said sarcastically.
         Just then, Lyndsea entered the kitchen. "The next time you take a shower before me, make sure you don't leave you're hair in the bathtub," she said with a disgusted look on her face.
         "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't help it if I shed a lot. I am a guy, you know."
         "Well, I'm a girl, and I don't enjoy seeing your hair in my shower!"
         "All right, I'll try not to shed next time," Mark joked. Lyndsea didn't seem very amused.
         "Well, why don't you have some breakfast, Lyndsea?" Mom said, trying to lighten the mood.
         "Fine. What is there?"
         "There's eggs, bacon, and toast."
         "I guess I'll have that," she said, sitting down at the table. Mark grinned at her, and she glared at him.
In a few minutes, Mom finished making her breakfast, and passed Lyndsea's plate to her. Mark leans to one side, and farts.
         "Ewww, Mark, that's disgusting!" Lyndsea yelled.
         "Ooh, I think I might've crapped my pants," Mark said.
         "Oh my God!" Lyndsea said. "Mom!"
         "Just ignore him, Lyndsea," said Mom, not wanting anything to do with it.
         "You're a pig, Mark!"
         "Why, thank you," Mark said, stealing one of her pieces of bacon. "I always try my best to live up to that." He popped it into his mouth before she could grab it. Then he stood up and went to the refrigerator.
         "You're also a fat-ass."
         "Now, I don't think I'm that fat," he said, lifting up his shirt to show his stomach. "See, perfectly flat."
         "You're sucking it in, Mark." He released it, and his belly came a little over his pants. He turned around to inspect his butt. "How much do you weigh?"
         "Probably about 180. That's fine for a guy my size."
         "Still, you're starting to get a little chunky."
         "Since when are you worried about my weight?"
         "I'm not. I just noticed you seemed a little bigger somehow."
         "Well, when I get to 200, maybe I'll think about exercise. But for now, I'm gonna eat what I want.
         "Okay, it's your body."