Last night, my family from the mainland arrived for my grandfather's funeral which is taking place this Friday. My seven-year-old cousin decided she'd sleep with me on our first night. I was fine with it up until she kicked me out of bed in the middle night. Now, usually, when someone takes up my part of the bed, I kick them and return to the spot that is rightfully mine. But I was feeling rather baffled here. It's not exactly nice to kick a seven year old when you want something from them. Confused on what I should do, I entered the living room, sat on my sofa, and sat there for a good couple of minutes trying to figure out how I was going to handle this situation. Well, perhaps I could just move her little body, I thought to myself. It shouldn't be that hard.

It was.

Not only was her limp body adamant on staying put, but I felt an unexpected guilt rush through me for trying to move her. It was like pushing away a flower. Who the fuck wants to be the one that pushes a flower away? So I was trapped. I gave in, took a little corner of the bed, and held on for my life.

Sadness. Even a seven year old can PWN me.

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