19675904

Roman Numerals

19675904 is such an ugly name, but it's mine and there's no hiding it, even with my nickname of "4." I made history with my name. No one on planet Earth had ever been born with "a whopping seven digits" as the articles headlined. Even the irrational decimals must've pitied me for it. It didn't help that my parents, 7045 and 27726, are both not large numbers, and with mom's 6 some people gossiped that she had an affair to make me. Thankfully, she has two 7's to compensate for it. Like I, their next child, my younger sister, didn't follow in their footsteps, yet 823 saved the family's reputation. People practically fall at the feet of hundreds. 11398 is the one who physically takes after our parents since she has five digits, but she doesn't have irrational decimals like mom. My sisters are my comfort in life, 823 adding her optimistic presence into my life and bullying 98 for being hilariously unlucky.

But all digits seem to fly out the door when it comes to one family activity: monopoly. 823 asked for the game when she was seven years old for her birthday. She and I played every day for a month, a game a day during the weekdays and multiple games a day during the weekends. We would fight over properties and our mom only tolerated our incessant asking her to read up the rule book jargon because we were "spending quality sister time." Since then, we've played as a family every Thursday evening for 1 hour. Actually, for the first few years, we would play between an hour or two, but as the years have gone on we've set our strict stop at the 1 hour mark. We've thrown in other games on our Thursday game night, especially if we have guests over and don't want to scare them away with our intensity.

Thursdays. After spending my day nannying for a family of 5, I came home to eat dinner. We had rice and beans with chicken that my mother prepared. The conversation was mostly between dad telling 98 about the latest airline lawsuits. Us sisters did the dishes as my parents got out the monopoly board.

Playing cards at home with family. Monopoly. 98 finally wins! After the game, they stay longer. 4 announces she's finally written the first draft of her novel and is excited for the second draft. 823 and 4 agree to go to a party soon. The parents warn them about being careful, which is why they ought to go together, drive the janky car so it doesn't get mugged.

Dad left to the kitchen to whip up some cocktails while us girls moved to the couches to sit and celebrate. Mom rubbed 98's back and asked her what her mindset had been throughout the eventful game.

Dad returned with 4 cocktails and a mocktail standing on a mahogany tray with small handles. "A [name of drink] for you," he handed to mom and one to me, "A [name of drink] for you," He turned to 823, "a mocktail for you"

Though a life destined for nothing productive or noteworthy is a hard pill to swallow, I try to count my blessings as much as the next self-ordained pessimist. I couldn't get into college parties or even college for that matter, so 823 brought me with her. How she willingly attended a bacchanalian party is beyond me, with the consoling fact that many of her friends let loose there. I enjoyed it for the sole fact that it allowed me to pretend I led the life of a college student despite my pathetic reality being a job of nannying from 9-5 and writing from 5-9. Exhilarating, I know. Sibling nepotism isn't my favorite, but Roman Numerals is my favorite holiday, so I made an exception.

823 sat her pretty, petite self in the passenger seat as I drove my van. I bought it off of a family who had owned it for long enough to permanently seed the smell of moldy snacks and some other indistinguishable smell. It catered to my day job but didn't fit in with the old-money lifestyle of 823's classmates. Not with its scratches and wrinkles that sagged with each pothole.

We hit a pothole as 823 swiped on red lipstick. She rubbed off a stray streak and turned to me, "Is my lipstick alright?"

After a glance away from the road, I answered, "Just wipe the edges off a bit, and you'll be good." I answered. She picked at the corners. "But even with your smudged lipstick, you could snatch any boy you've dreamed of."