|"Okay, I've thought a lot about this, and I do appreciate that you've got to express yourself, I do. I have heard you, though, and I want you to know that I have listened and I get it that you hate me and you hate living here. I get it. But maybe could you say it a little less often, like maybe once a week."
I was dead serious when I said it, so maybe that's why she didn't laugh. I mean, she's in that phase, that stage, that whatever the hell it is that makes kids act like jerks. I know she's got a lot on her plate and has been traumatized and all the rest of it....
But how many times can a guy hear how much he sucks before he's allowed to say something about it?
I don't think I suck. I am quite capable and even somewhat proficient at lots of things. I can parallel park perfectly pretty much every single time. I can keep my cool dealing with those automated calling systems that loop you around before hanging up on you or timing out or something. (Most of the time)
Anyhow, she looked at me stunned with those big brown eyes of hers. She crossed her arms.
"Well, I DO hate it here and I DO hate you," she said.
"Yes, like I said, I've heard you. But you're talking to the wrong person. If you really feel that way, let's get the ball rolling and get the right people involved."
"What does that mean?"
I explained about the people who had the power to pluck her from this world and plunk her into some other world. If she would simply focus her energy on convincing these people that having to do 2 minutes of dishes every second week day was too too much... that not getting to use the computer if she hadn't taken the pediatrician prescribed vitamins was plunging her into a nightmare... she might have a chance to get to that paradise that she imagined was waiting out there for her.
Yeah, I called her bluff, because the reality of it... well, you can imagine by now.
Did I handle it right? Did I say the right words in the right tone with the right timing? No, not likely. Look, I'm just a regular guy trying to salvage what my sister's addiction didn't obliterate.
Anyhow, that was in the morning. That evening that same little banshee turned angel and said "you should look into adopting me."
The difference a few hours can make. The crazy part is I'm thinking about it.