My little cousin’s 13. Yep. I remember being pretty awkward at that age but, holy shit, this kid is fucking WEIRD. I don’t mean a little weird. I mean… I capitalized it the first time for good reason.
First off, he needs to learn to erase the internet history. Because I REALLY have no desire to accidentally find out what kind of porn he watches on my computer when I’m not home. When I type in the word “google” into the address bar, I see that he’s been googling the phrase “bowl of sperm.” No, I’m not making this shit up. And apparently, he’s really into cartoon drawings of teenage girls being spanked.
Besides his tactless consumption of porn, his personal hygeine is worrysome. He showers maybe once every week or every ten days. But meanwhile, his hands constantly wear the stench of below-the-belt junk slime. Because his hands are constantly down his pants: in the front and the back. Every time he sits down somewhere, he leaves behind his signature smell of week-old semen and a little bit of doo-doo. I now keep a cushion on my computer chair when I’m not using the computer. This way he sits on that rather than the chair… because for a while, the reek he was leaving on the chair was getting stuck on my pants whenever I sat down. Maybe you think I’m being a big asshole, but this is serious. Disinfectant spray doesn’t even neutralise his ass-stank.
Then there’s the whole “pissing on everything within 3 feet of the toilet” thing. I don’t know if he lacks any understanding of the fact that, as a man, you need to aim that thing. Because, quite literally, he pisses pretty much everywhere that isn’t the toilet (the floor, the toilet seat, the toilet paper, the sink, the bath mat, the baseboard heater).
Finally, as far as the things I feel like mentioning today, the bed bouncing. The goddamn neurotic compulsive bed bouncing. Up-down-up-down-up-down. So all through the basement, I hear crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch all fucking day and night. He sits there and plays Xbox and just bounces for hours and hours. Til 2am on school nights. In fact, he destroys a new mattress every 3 months. Again, I’m not exaggerating at all.
Mmmm. He’s family. And I love him. He’s got good qualities too, it’s just that right now, I’m here to complain. Because the little fucker drives me up a wall sometimes. And every time I try to gently confront him, he rats to his mom and says I made him feel self-conscious. Eww. Little shit.
I do really look forward to moving back to Portland and living with adults. Few months left here to grin and bear it.