Do you ever get the feeling your parents love your brother or sister more than they love you? If you do have that feeling, you know just how much it sucks. Now, imagine just for a moment, that it’s not a feeling that’s niggling away at the back of your mind, but a confirmed fact. Imagine that they told you, not subtlety over the years but in plain English, that they had a favourite child and you were not it. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my life.
My sister, younger, objectively prettier, and subjectively better is the apple of ma and pop’s collective eye. Whatever she wants, she is given. In fact, as I live and breathe, we are on the way to Tamworth, yes, Tamworth, to find the finest horse barn builders in all the land to build my sister’s little pony shelter for the winter. Apparently, these people do livestock sheds as a speciality in Tamworth, so I have been forced, against my will, into a car with mother, father, and the brat. Why am I here? To take photos. Apparently, the only thing I’m good for.
As a minor who has greedy neighbours on all sides, the parental units are unable to leave me to fend for myself in the suburban wilderness, so I get dragged along whenever darling sis has an engagement of any kind. Since I’m not too bad with a camera (and have even won a couple of competitions and things) they’ve decided to use that as their excuse this time around. As if anyone can’t just point and shot a decent photo of a couple of horse barns in Tamworth. So really, despite the lies they tell their friends, this is just one more example of me being dragged along to take photos of my sister’s life. Sounds like fun, right?