You Lay in a Bed of Lies

My parents are a bunch of liars.

My whole life my parents have told me that when my mom turned thirty, she became allergic to every kind of animal. And I believed them. You may be thinking, Whitney why would you believe this? Because when my mom turned thirty she became allergic to raw potatoes and apples too. So my parents told me I couldn't have any pets because "You have siblings" and also because "Your mom is allergic". I asked about every single animal there was including parrots, chinchillas, and rats. But the answer was always the same, "No your mom's allergic."

Being the antagonist I am, my dad promised me that we could have an outside dog when the youngest sibling was out of diapers, and we lived in a house with a fenced in yard. I think he promised me this because either Grace would never get out of diapers, or most likely we would never live in and own a house with a fenced in yard.

Well, Grace has been out of diapers for about 12 years, and we've had a fenced in yard for 8. This isn't the part that bothers me. It's the fact that my brother got a puppy this past weekend and my mom was hogging the dog. I reminded her that she was allergic to dogs (she always forgets that she is allergic to apples and wonders why her throat itches after she eats one), because she was hogging the dog and wouldn't let anyone else play with it. She then stated, "No, I'm only allergic to cats."

My whole childhood was a lie. I mean the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and now this?!

I know, my parents are horrible people. And, because of their poor parenting and laziness I am not an Olympic athlete. Had they just pushed me, I could have been Dominique Dawes or Dominique Moceanu (I lived in Romania, I probably could have tumbled like a Romanian). I remind my mom of this every time the Olympics are on.

Here are pictures of the what started it all:

The dog's name is Harry.