My baby sister Ellie tugged at me with eager eyes toward the trampoline. I didn’t bother asking what she wanted, because it was obvious that she wanted to get on it, and so I picked her up and dropped her with her uncle and brother. I was about to walk away, until a small hand stopped me. It was Eli, my uncle. He was four years old and had a scowl that could make anyone gush over him. I looked down at his hand then at him. I gave him a smile, “What’s up Eli?” I asked. He released me, “Go get me a soda!”he demanded. I stood there in shock, “Wait.. You can get it yourself.” He pouted, “No! I am your uncle, so give me a soda!”
I couldn’t believe my ears. This kid had two working legs, he could it himself, but he gave me a face that told me that he was about to tell on me if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I sighed as I walked into my grandpa’s house, but then I stopped myself before I opened the cooler. I was fourteen years older than this boy, so why was I taking orders from him? I laughed and walked away from the cooler, forgetting all about that soda.
It was two months ago on Christmas day I went to see my grandpa again. He lived in San Antonio with his wife, Selenia, so we never saw them often. As the granddaughter I was suppose to call both my grandpa and Selenia my grandparents, But I never have called her my grandma, because I simply thought she was too young. It’s odd calling a Twenty-nine year old your grandmother.
In addition to that, she recently came into my life, so the thought of calling her grandma is not glued into my mind. Yet there are moments when I hear that she wants me to call her by an appropriate name, but no matter how hard I try, I can never call her grandma. She was too close to my age to be a woman that I would look to for wisdom. Not only that, but by blood, we are not related. She is not the mother that created or raised my father, so why should I call her one?
Does a name truly define a person? I have realized that I could have been more respectable to Selenia if she was a bit older than me. But we are 12 years apart and I honestly see her as an aunt. Not to say I don’t respect my aunts, but there is always a certain way I act with them, because of how our small age difference. Also, I have to take the fact that we are not even related into consideration. Titles don’t seem to keep me unfazed, and that can be a thorn in some people’s sides. Just I don’t think that I should not have to take orders from someone we haven’t even lived life yet. My younger uncles are not the boss of me, because at least I am potty drained. I will love them like family, but when it comes to being serious, I will just laugh every time, at the thought of treating those toddlers like their my uncles.
