My Cup Runneth Over

Dear Lord, we've been working on that awful issue I have- adopting every puppy that I see, so to speak. "Oh, Bethy, you're sweet, but you've got to say "no" every now and then!" has followed me all the days of my life, as surely as goodness and mercy do and shall. My cup indeed runneth over, Lord. But Lord, I did it again, and felt this rush of panic the second I said, "Sure, ok". *SMACK!* Look, I love my family. But Lord, listen... he's kind of icky. Not just because he's a boy, but I remember things I shouldn't. Like his special homage to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers- the one involving a sock- that has been burned deeply into my memory. And his friends have all beaten me up! Granted, I was still short and wearing Pippi Longstocking pigtails. And there was that one who saw me- um, developing, and said "BETHANY! You have boobs!" (No, that's not scary for a 16 year old girl, dear Lord. Not at all.) Lord, I've been in a dark place DUE to family insanity, acting all sorts of weird. Sharing net, kitchen, food, small bathroom with my brother? Please, help me stay sane. Lord, I like the guy, sure... he's my big brother, and he's really kind of sweet sometimes. But he's my big brother--- Lord, he's my polar opposite, too. You know what this means. And um...words that should never pop out of a brother's mouth are as follows. Lord, "I'll take care of you"- I have a father, he did very well for 12 years, thanks. And according to him, for the next 12 years, I'm still not allowed to date. "I'll give you money" should not ever come after "I'll take care of you". Lord, I has a big scared. I feel like one of those long haired cats seeing something scary. My tail and ears would be up and I'd be a giant puffball, if I were a cat. And the over-protectiveness... I'm nice, ok... I'm gentle. But... I don't need a father! I am going to pink it up. Make it uncomfortable for anyone with XY chromosomes. Did I mention, Lord, that he scares me and has gross habits?