My Jeep Girl

5• Explosion de Peanut Butter and Jelly Deliciousness

My mom then went on to complain about how someone on the council complained about the lack of pine trees in the Newport Beach area. She said, "How could one person be so dull? There's a lack of pine trees in the Newport Beach area... because it's goddamn California!" You want pine trees, she said, go to Colorado.

My mom worked as a full-time member of the Newport Beach Council, which dealt with all of the politics and whatnot of the area. She basically just worked with a large group of people under the mayor of the town. My dad was also a part of the council, but only part-time. As we've established, his full-time job is being a dietitian. So he basically helps people decide what food is beneficial for them to eat to avoid the possibility of obesity, to get past eating disorders, and all of that jib-jab. And although he was very passionate about food, my mom continued to make meals (such as her delicious fettuccine alfredo, which I should mention is a family recipe passed down for generations, so it's top-level amazing) that would generally be frowned upon by most dietitians.

And my dad still ate it.

I love my family.

I especially loved Ethan, who started telling us about how they were doing a classwide activity where each table was tasked with creating a tower out of little paper cups. Ethan told us how he carefully placed the cups in a circular form to create a stable base and then built up from there. Everyone else in the class had gone for the simple pyramid, but not Ethan. Clearly, my brother was an architect.

"It would've won the contest if stupid Jimothy hadn't accidentally knocked his Caprisun into the base," Ethan complained, facepalming himself and rolling his eyes. This boy was built on theatrics, let me tell you. He waved his fork in the air as he explained, "I mean, we aren't even supposed to drink Caprisuns until snack time and snack time wasn't for another, like, 30 minutes or something! But noooo, big and round Jimothy Price needs to have his Caprisun right in the middle of my rotundus tower!"

My mom furrowed her eyebrows. "Rotundus?" She asked.

"That is what I said, mother," Ethan replied matter-of-factly. He shoveled a scoop of pure cheese sauce into his mouth. "I read, I do the English stuff, rotundus is a prestigious word. You might not have known the word rotundus before today."

"Well, okay then," my mom said, nodding her head. "Looks like we've got a genius on our hands."

"Genius is putting it lightly," Ethan added, smiling. He was too sassy for his own good. This was a perfect example of why he was the best, and my favorite, member of my family.

I was convinced that his fiery red hair had something to do with his vibrant personality.

Suddenly, the door connecting the living room to the garage opened and a sweaty (too sweaty to be healthy) Tyler walked through the door, his basketball duffle bag on his right shoulder and a bag of ice saran-wrapped to his left knee. He really looked like the stereotypical jock. I could already imagine what the first thing he would say to us was going to be...

Coach put us through hell tonight and just about killed my knee. No way in hell I'm going back to physical therapy. Fuck the PT!

"Tyler!" My dad greeted as he stumbled his way into the kitchen. His duffle bag slid from his shoulder and thumped onto the hardwood floor before he sat down at the end of the table and immediately started piling the carbo-load onto his plate. "How was practice?"

Tyler groaned while he took a bite that was way too big. He spoke without even chewing completely. "Ugh. Coach put us through hell tonight! My knee is basically dead. But no way in hell am I ever going back to the damned physical therapist. Fuck the goddamn PT."