Wild Card

    Within my family, including my cousins and distant relatives, I have always been labeled the "Wild Card" as my parents and cousins have said. Rightfully so as well, comparing me to my sister is almost the same as comparing a spawn of satan to the perfect child (it took me 15 minutes to think of an analogy and I could not come up with a really good one, I apologize). That definitely is an exaggeration, but you get the point. I never really conformed to what anyone else was doing (as cliche as that sounds), and always beat to the sound of my own drum. My entire purpose or life motto for a majority of my adolescent years was to remain as unpredictable as possible (this is not an exaggeration).  

    A story that often gets passed around a lot involves me, my cousin Ken, and a pool that we were not supposed to get in. If I recall correctly, we were celebrating my grandma's (whatever age she was) birthday. I have a pretty big family I think, about 12 cousins of similar age and live within the same city. Anyways, we were all over at my uncle's house. My uncle: Michael, scares the hell out of me. Not because he's creepy or strict, but because he is just insane but in a good way. The dude is always down to do anything, and maintains a positive yet dangerously daring demeanor to him. Alright, back to the point of the story: Ken and I were specifically told not to get in the pool, both of our mothers stressed this heavily to us before we arrived at the party; they told us at least 3 times before we left (our mothers were there they just sticked with the adults like a bunch of lames). As soon as I saw the pool I immediately thought about jumping in or at least feeling the water. I was having a literal battle within my head, it was like fighting off an addiction, I was exhibiting withdrawal symptoms for the feeling of water ( I have never, currently, and don't plan on doing drugs or anything like that. That last line was purely for slight comedic purposes, hopefully I didn't raise any suspicion or offend anyone, and if I did I sincerely apologize). This supposedly quick recap is taking too long, so long story short I gave into temptation and jumped into the little kiddie pool and convinced Ken to do so as well. Our mothers got really mad at us, and took us back to Ken's house for a punishment. We knew that we were going to get hit with a wooden spoon on our tushies, so I had the bright idea of wearing multiple layers of Puma sweatpants to soften the blow and hopefully negate the pain. My genius idea won over the hearts of our mothers and instead of giving us a mean spanking, they just laughed in amazement of how awesome my incredible idea was. What a genius I was.  

    This story is told in many different perspectives, one of these perspectives is mine (as you saw above). It was very biased and gave me a decent amount of praise to say the least. The perspective that is told the most, however, is my mother's perspective. The difference between her perspective and mine is that she highlights how much of a trouble child I was, which is fair. However, the main component of her story that ticks me off, and I simply cannot agree with is her claim that she was so infuriated about how we disobeyed her orders and attempted to pull off our little stunt that she didn't want to deal with us anymore. And to that I would like to say: Sure mom, sureeeee...you definitely weren't awing at my genius, you were just mad. Whatever you say, whatever floats your boat. You definitely weren't amazed at the kid genius you potentially had in your son and correctly decided to spare him of a spanking to preserve his god given brain cells. I think the significance in this story is the difference in perspective ( I am aware we have moved past the POV unit in this class). On one hand it can make me seem like I am fully deserving of the nickname: Clever Trevor, but on the other, I am just a problem child that can press anyone's buttons like it's a video game. I will let you, my fans (kidding), decide which perspective you believe.