Bentley

Greetings.

I am so very pissed off. Just because Bentley is the baby doesn't mean that he should be pampered when he is sick. Bentley has a violent cough. That's it. A cough. I admit, he gets sick VERY often due to the fact that he's missing two of the three major immunoglobins in his blood, but this time it's getting on my nerves. He. Has. A. Freaking. Cough.
In January, I stayed home from school for over a week and a half with the stomach flu AND an upper respiratory infection. Bev didn't stay up with me while I was coughing and vomiting. Bev didn't take me to the doctor until six days after I got sick. (I was sick for eleven days.) Neither Dad nor Bev stayed home to take care of me even though I was too weak to get up except every few hours to go to the restroom. I had a 101.8 degree fever. I deserved some pampering. They gave me a Gatorade and a "Get well soon!" and left me to fend for myself.
BENTLEY, on the other hand, has been coughing, just coughing, for the last week. He's been to the doctor twice. He's on five different medicines. Bev stayed up all last night with him. He has no fever. But he seems to be well enough to go to rehearsal and school. It. Isn't. Fair. I was dying and I get avoided because Bev and Bentley have low constitutions. But Bev has no problem with exposing herself to a virus for her younger son. She makes him breakfast in bed. She fluffs pillows. She kicks me out of the room in the middle of a new NCIS episode that I had been waiting to see so Bentley could sit and cough in the chair I had been sitting in and watch a different show. I am tired of taking a back seat to Bentley. He always gets his way. Seriously, he's Ross and I'm Monica from FRIENDS (omg I love that show) and I am sick of it! He has a COUGH. He has a cough which gets tended to right away. I was dying for six days before I went to see a doctor. I was hurling the first four and coughing and hacking and generally not being able to do anything except sleep on the couch and cry for the rest of the time. I couldn't speak. Yet he can sing, go to school, and go to rehearsal and they're making a HUGE deal over a COUGH. I have the strong constitution! Shouldn't it be more of a tragedy when *I* get sick??????? I mean something strong enough to bring ME down is BAD but no one wanted to come near me except long enough for me to cry at them or give me more Gatorade. I was suffering and no one helped me fore six days. Bentley starts coughing and they rush him to our doctor the next day. IT'S NO FREAKING FAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, and another thing. Bentley is the youngest so that means he got Dad and Uncle Sam's great metabolism. So what does Bev do? She rewards him with CHOCOLATE CAKE BATTER. Like three bowls a day. I am SO not kidding. Meanwhile, I'm working my butt off (literally) at the gym, eating rabbit food (salads), and eating diet snacks. And when I tell Bev that that's not right and that's she's being completely biased, unfair, and just plain mean, she acts all innocent and CLAIMS SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM SO TIRED OF BENTLEY GETTING HIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE GETS EVERYTHING HE WANTS!!!!!!!!!!! MEANWHILE, I CAN'T EVEN GET THE THINGS I PUT ON THE WISH LIST THAT BEV AND NANA ASK FOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to liv somewhere else... somewhere where I'm the only child. Or at least the baby. I am tired of being treated as a butler, chauffeur, and second-rate citizen. I want equality. But when I ask for it, no one gives. So either I force it, petition (yeah, one signature's going to do me a lot of good), or move out.

Tearz
HM