Story Time: The Water Park.


This is my seester, Abby. She’s fun and crazy in one convenient package. Available only between the hours of 7 am and 5:45 pm as the rest of the day she is in her bed. Unless that’s a weekend because in that case, why would you even try?

Before she was Abby the twentysomething with those forest-green eyes that tell stories for her, she was this full-faced chunker who believed her two older siblings a bit too much.

To say in the least, man.

[Note: No younger sisters were hurt in the making of this story. A little therapy and she’ll be fine. No, really.]

Like honestly…I don’t know why she still talks to us. Or admits we’re related. One little white lie and it could all go away, Abs. Just one.

Anyway, once upon a freaking time…

Anthony was a notoriously OCD little boy when it came to things like: cleaning his room, how tight his belt was worn, and when he took his afternoon poop. And if I’m correct, it was at 2:40 pm. At least in 5th grade.

As you can see, he’s spent plenty of time doing away with that reputation:


…though ironically he’s eating beans here. Maybe it was getting close to 2:40. Idk.

Anyway, now you can find him at your local gym and/or hopping between Georgia and South Carolina and North Carolina…and New York, if we’re honest, blaring Beyoncé and doing some dance he thinks is funny.

I digress.

Mom was thrilled with his OCD tendencies because it proved to her that one of her children was going to be okay because at least they would have a clean house, their pants would never fall down, or she could at least depend on regular bowel movements.

I mean, what more could a mother of Russell children ask?

So Anthony was neat and tidy, but Abby and I on the other hand…were a bit on the messy side. And by messy, I mean that dust bunnies did the Macarena on our floor on a regular basis. Metaphorically speaking. So one day, Anthony decided to do something about our messy room at Abby’s expense and she’s had trust issues ever since.

Because really…the 8 year old is the obvious choice. I was stubborn and awful. Plus he knew I would sit on him.

“Abby,” he told her, “Mom just called and said that if you cleaned your room, she’d take us to the water park!”

Abby’s eyes lit up with excitement, “Really ?” she asked.

(…no, Abby. It’s March.)

“Yes,” Anthony told her, “But you have to clean up your room before she gets home!”

“Okay!” Abby rushed into our bedroom, threw on her green bathing suit, and I…*cough*…let it happen. Because you know…I was curious. And this was kind of funny. And Lord knew I wasn’t about to clean.

Probably twenty minutes later, Mom walked in to find Abby on hands and knees, gathering up all our clothes as quickly as she could and man, could she clean if she thought something fun would come of it. “What are you doing?” Mom asked carefully with the full knowledge that an 8 year old cleaning her room in a bathing suit was not normal, even in our household.

Abby was becoming skeptical, “Anthony said if I cleaned my room, you said we would go to the water park.”

“I didn’t say that,” all eyes were on Anthony as Abby’s eyes lit up with indignant fury.

“You tricked me!”

“But it got you to clean your room!”

And I can’t remember what happened next, but I’m sure it involved Abby stomping off and Mom telling Anthony not to lie to his little sister and to be kind.

Needless to say Abby hasn’t forgiven him for that one yet and yeah, we definitely owe that girl a trip to the water park. It’s on Anthony, Abs.




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