Alright, so my Mom and I got in a huge fight.
I get home from school, I get all my stuff unpacked, and my Mom waits until just then to tell me that she has a problem with my unhealthy lifestyle. I said some things, she said some things, Dad said some things, and long story short, I decided to take my residence elsewhere. How could I be expected to live in a house with that woman constantly nagging me to eat right and exercise when I made it abundantly clear by how freakin' fat I was that I would be having absolutely none of that? I had my pride, after all!
...okay, she kicked me out.
In her defense, I guess I kind of am hard to live with. I mean, I weigh four hundred pounds. Like it or not, shit is going to get knocked over by my ridiculous badonkadonk. Or get crushed underneath it. Whatever.
But hey, silver linings, right? I was given a week to get out and find a place to stay on my own when, in a moment of the most pure unadulterated kindness that my fat ass had ever been shown, my Aunt Rhonda offered me a place to stay.
It started out as your standard auntie-niece phone call. Seriously, she called me to tell me congratulations on graduating and it eventually led into what a bitch my mom was being. Except, you know, I couldn't use the b-word because that was kind of her sister. So, long story short, she told me that if I didn't have a place to go by the end of the week, she'd pay for the trip down to her house and that would be the end of it. And since all of my friends were kind of scattered across the country or taking residence in boarding school, I wasn't going to be able to move in with them any time soon.
And that's how Aunt Rhonda became my favorite aunt.
I mean, we were pretty close before. As close as two people could be being on different sides of the East Coast. She lived down in South Carolina, which meant that our bonding had been somewhat stilted before all this happened. But since she was fronting the bill and a month's rent at her house, how could I say no?
Mom didn't like it, but what did she care? It was my car, my decision, and my life. And she made that abundantly clear when she bitched me out for crushing the couch.
...shit, did I forget to mention I did that?
Anyway, Aunt Rhonda never really got to see anyone on this side of the coast, so it was a really rare treat that any of us ever got to see her on the off chance that we actually got to spend any time with her. She and my mother always had some kind of beef between them. Probably because my mom was a controlling pathologically manipulative bitch. She had that effect on people.
So, after a long drive down south and what probably amounted to at least two hundred cumulative dollars in impromptu drive-thru binges, I finally made my way to my new home...
Enter my Aunt Rhonda—
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