Why I Live at the PO

This story reminds me of all the times my sister hogged the spotlight while we were growing up. Of course, her version of our childhood is much different than mine, but mine is the correct version. From the narrator's point of view, everyone else is concerned about silly things like their beards, how they look in women's robes, and on and on. But she has no problems, and she definitely has her priorities straight. Of course, the irony is that when she finally storms out of the house in a fit, she remembers to grab all of the material objects that are hers-yup, she's a reliable narrator all right!