My family consists of my poor, unfortunate parents and all seven of my siblings and I. Plus our three dogs and that strange neighborhood cat that I'm almost positive, thinks he's a dog as well. Since we're all crammed in a pretty small house, for our monstrous size, you can probably imagine that the roar of noise here is undying. Like right now, my little brother Evan is playing war with my other little brother Luke, and they're making explosion noises, which basically means they're spitting all over the place. Oh gosh, I should probably go check on Emma Lou and make sure they didn't tie her up again........
Nope, she was fine, just standing on the dining room table in only her diaper and a batman shirt. *rolls eyes*
So anyway, where was I? Oh yes, describing the chaos that is my life. When people ask me how many siblings I have and I answer "Seven." I like to watch their faces. It's like I just told them I'm really an alien from the planet Unbelievable, their face goes slack jawed and their eyes get about three times their normal size. So I always like to add a little bit of extra info to REALLY shock them.
"Yeah, I have four brothers and three sisters." I think it's the four brothers that makes most people freak out. It's just universally known that little boys are way harder to handle than little girls. And if they're big brothers......You better just hope they're not. I have one big brother and imagining a second? Holy moly, I don't even want to think about it. Nate's great, but one Nate is WAY enough.
So yes, to list us in order it would appear like this: Nate, Meghan, Erin, Rachael (me!), Paul, Luke, Evan, and Emma Lou. So in all, we're pretty evened out. Four girls, four boys.
Now you'd think with so many people in one house, that my parents would be completely against pets, right? Which my dad argues they are. However, the minute one of them sees a big eyed, begging little or big face, they go all mushy inside and cave immediately. That's the only reason we ended up with three dogs.
Jazz, is my dog, so I'm in charge of taking care of her. Which I do......Most of the time......Okay, sometimes but I really do care about her. She's my best bud, I even gave her a bath in the kiddie pool today. You know? One of those plastic, round pools with a pathetic little slide attached that we all LOVED as kids?
So I dragged her outside, unsuccessfully tried clipping her nails, brushed her teeth with one of those finger brushes (gross!) and had to pick her up to get her into the pool because she did NOT want to go.
I mean, she did the whole: Plant the feet, give you that look that says, "I am NOT going in there." and then sits when you try to pick them up. In the end though, I came out victorious. I wrestled her into the pool and held her still with my body while proceeding to hose down the both of us, even though my first intention had been to avoid getting wet. Oh well, at least she didn't smell like a fish anymore.
Ha, it's not as bad as the time when I tried doing it in the bathtub......
Oh jeez, Tux is sitting on the window sill next to me, looking in the window and begging to come in now. He's that dog cat I told you about. He's not even our cat, he's our neighbor's, but he likes our house more. Probably because of our massive garden......
Okay, back to the main point of this whole thing!
I am going to write one interesting story per entry in this blog, and it has to be something that happened to me. I can't retell someone else's stories. So my first story was washing Jazz......Lol, hopefully the stories get more interesting as I go.
Oh yeah, and the reason I named this blog How to Cook Your Spaghetti is because my family has this tradition where each of us has our own recipe on how to cook that delicious pasta meal. We all think our own is the best, but we all like the other's just as much, if that makes any sense. Anyway, I just figured Spaghetti is a big part of my life and it kind of describes it as well, a big tangled mess. But delicious just the same.
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