Journal of a Spaced-Out Brain -poetry-

A Conspiracy!

After my brother's death two month's ago, I've become the father figure in my 14 year old grand-niece's world. I've never had children or responsibility for them, excluding a few very young sailors under my command in the Navy. Many of them were, how should I put this nicely, idiots. My grand-niece is not an idiot because you must have a brain to be an idiot. She is more like an empty ball mason jar. You can tell it to clean it's room, stay off the computer, wash the dishes but it isn't going to happen. My fiance is having a very good laugh at my attempts to educate this young girl who likes talking to boys over her computer more than eating. When I try to give her a chore to do I have to answer every excuse and think of every situation that could possibly interfere with her completing said assignment. Her room needed cleaning. Her excuse was that she couldn't find the trash can. I presumed it was buried under a pile of clothes and blankets she'd kick off her bed. I restricted her from her computer until she cleaned her room. I told her to come to me and I would be the judge if the room was clean. After two hours I wondered why she hadn't come to me. I found that she was busy cleaning her rock collection in the bathroom... I understand she hadn't been on the computer but, c'mon.... My fiance says, with a snicker, that her rock collection is kept in her room so it's technically part of her room cleaning. This is a conspiracy!