These Boots Are Made For Pitching Hysterical Fits

I'm totally going shopping for boots.

By the way, if you're ever thinking of borrowing ANYTHING from Kels, oh please for the love of all that is holy THINK AGAIN! The risk-reward ratio is so not worth it.

For example, last night I asked to borrow a pair of black suede boots (The black suede boots that she constantly complains about because they're all she got for Christmas last year, mind you.). Innocent, right? NOT IN THE LAND OF CRAZY.

You see, I was loaned the boots on the condition that I have them back before she had to go to school at 7 the next day. Seeing that I was just going to dinner and would have her prized boots for 5 hours tops, I figured it was okay. It was not okay.

I got sick after dinner and decided to drive home in the morning to shower and get ready for work. Apparently, this did not work for my sister.

She called me nonstop for an hour and a half. Sometimes texted. Thinks like, "I know you're there! Stop ignoring me!" and "Mom's coming to Corey's" and "I'm never lending you anything again EVER!" and sometimes it was just unintelligible, hysterical shrieking.

My sister? She is nearly 17 years old. And she throws tantrums. Screaming, crying, foot-stomping tantrums. Corey's brother? He is nearly seven. He does the same thing.

Anyway, being the diurnal person that I am, I decided that enough was enough and succumbed to the Boot Nazi's demands and DROVE HOME AT MIDNIGHT so I could have some peace and sleep. Because she's been spoiled all her life; why stop now?

Got home and the psychopath was in bed. Lucky cow. So I took off the boots, put them outside her door and went to brush my teeth. When I was done, I walked past her room just in time to see her open the door, take the boots and close the door. Like she's fucking Gollum or something.

"The Fat One wants the Precioussssssssss!"

Seriously.

But whatever. It's Pay Day. Anybody got any Sugar Free Red Bull?

Love,
Katie