**
Something is definitely wrong with my eyes. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I know it's not normal. To understand how this happened, we need to rewind—way back, not just five minutes ago. Let's dive into the chaos.
*Cough* Scratch that off my bucket list. Let's see… #2980 is done, and only 97,020 more things to go. Time well spent, right? Now, onto more pressing matters. Chris used *Cry*. Mother appeared. Yes, it's a bit overused, but hey, it's my story, and I'll tell it how I want. Wait, no! Stop! I'm sorry, I'll stop. Just… stay five feet away from me, okay?
Alright, no more shenanigans. No funny business, no monkey business—none of that. Yeah, right. Like I'd ever stop, but don't tell anyone, okay? Cool? Thanks, I owe you one… actually, I owe myself one. *Haaah.* I need to accept that this isn't a dream. But every time I try, it feels like I'm about to lose something important. That gnawing feeling keeps me from fully embracing this reality.
It's the third day of my exploration on this bizarre planet, and honestly, I've lost it. The air I breathed on the second day must've been laced with some potent hallucinogen. I should've been more careful. Now I'm thirsty. Ugh, off on a tangent again.
Don't mind me; it's all for the word count. So, what's up? Feels like we've been here before. It's a nice day outside—fine weather, gentle breeze, the works. But since I can't see a thing, I'm just making it up as I go. Now that I've calmed down a bit, I realize my thoughts have been running wild. I need to rein them in.
*Sigh.* I've been sighing a lot lately—mostly in my head, but still, it's too much. I feel like I've aged decades in just a few days. But my emotions are all over the place, so don't mind me.
*Ahem.* Let's start over. I'm Chris Reynolds, the second son of the Reynolds family. We're a big bunch—seven siblings in total. I've got four brothers and two sisters. On my dad's side: one uncle, one aunt (with two sons and a daughter), and my grandmother. On my mom's side: six uncles (14 sons and 5 daughters), four aunts (5 sons and 3 daughters), and another grandmother. That's my family in a nutshell.
In this massive family, my maternal cousin from the third eldest uncle is a lot like me—an anomaly. My hair is gold-brown, while hers is gold with black highlights. I have snow-white skin, and hers is close enough. As a kid, I was short, and so was she. For her, it wasn't a big deal, but for me? Oh boy. The bullying didn't stop until the other kids realized I was strong despite my height.
I stayed short until I was 14—probably around 3'11". Being short was one of my least favorite things. The others? Spinach, eggplant, eggs, cauliflower, and bitter gourd. On the flip side, I loved chicken, rice, potatoes, ladyfingers, and beef.
As a kid, my hobbies revolved around observing people. I'd sit in the kitchen and watch my grandmother or mom cook. I'd sit on the bench and watch them sew. I'd sit on the bed and watch them knit. I'd sit on a chair and watch them wash clothes. This was my life from ages 2 to 10.
Like I said, I was an anomaly. From ages 2 to 5, I hardly ate anything except biscuits. Anything else, and I'd either spit it out or throw up. My cousin was the same—she'd only eat bread or cupcakes. We were the weirdos of the family.
My father, Jack Reynolds, is an astute businessman—smart, honest, and principled. He doesn't tolerate bribes, fraud, or lying to boost sales. He caps his profit margin at 20%, so if he buys something for $10, he sells it for no more than $12. He despises laziness and sloppiness. No cursing, no hitting people in the face, and absolutely no hitting women. If there's an issue with a woman, another woman handles it. In the family's garment shop, male employees assist male customers, and female employees assist female customers. No exceptions.
If there's a complaint, investigate before acting. If you don't understand, ask. If you're unsure about something, verify it before believing it. If you want to prove something, back it up with evidence. If you want something, earn it—whether it's respect or material things. That's my father, a man I deeply respect and aspire to be like.
Then there's my mother, Amanda Reynolds. She's one of the kindest people I know, though a bit strict. She's a housewife, part-time entrepreneur, and the best mother—albeit overly protective of me. She forgives and forgets small to medium mistakes after a good scolding. She loves cooking, watching dramas, sewing, and knitting. She hates when people raise their voices in front of her. Her motherly aura is off the charts. I love her dearly, though she's a little too forgiving of her brothers.
Anyway, that's my family and me. As I wrap up this introduction, I realize I've been bathed and breastfed. Wow, time flies. I even shot at time once—pure luck he survived. Damn those nosy people, always meddling in others' business. What? He deserved it. Long story short, he did something horrendous, so I got angry and shot him with a rubber bullet gun I was carrying for practice. Yeah, it still hurts, especially at point-blank range. Oh, you thought I meant time as in minutes? Nah, just reminiscing about that incident.
Fine, I was stalling to think of what to say next. So, stay tuned. Yeah, I'm padding the word count, but it's fine. What's up? I know I've done this before, but let me ask again: so what?
Now that introductions and hygiene are out of the way, let's move on. I decided to try moving my arms. Yeah, I know you're waiting for the punchline. Well, I managed to raise my arm, only to punch myself in the face. Lesson learned: I'm too weak to control my limbs properly.
All this talking and observing has worn me out. Time to sleep. Ciao, sayonara, adios, zaijian, bye.
Chris used *Yawn* on Chris. It's super effective. Chris has fallen asleep. Chris is unable to move. *Zzz.* Oh, before I really doze off, I found proof to another age-old question. Until next time. Chris is officially asleep now. *Zzz.*