How It's Supposed To Be

An Introduction To Genevieve Anne Waters

Most seventeen-year-old girls want a car. Or a boyfriend, or a date to prom, or any number of various shallow things. Some are hoping to get a scholarship of some sort.

Me? I was hoping for a mother.

Now, notice I did not say I was hoping for my mother. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I wanted anyone but my mother. The reason is simply:

a) She was a terrible mother, which lead to

b) I became the mother role, so

c) Naturally, I was depraved of my childhood, yaddayaddayadda.

I yearned for someone to tell me what to do, someone to boss me around. Again, not your typical teenager, but ever since my father left, my family has been anything but typical. As someone who has been the bosser and given directions, I really just wanted to be a kid- which was ironic, considering I would be an adult in three months.

My story is not of how we found a mother. My story, however cliché, is about how I found a boy named Theodore Alexander Hootman, and how he changed everything.