Thiefin' my non existent blood!

So my mom thinks that now that we have a blood sugar test thing for my brother to monitor his intake of sugar because of this one super high test he had, she thinks that now it's ok to test me sometimes.
WRONG.

Now I will be the one to admit it. I am afraid of any kind of pain. I hate it, I can't deal with it. My parents both have some freakish high tolerance with pain, but I don't know if it cancelled out with me or something, but I have like the lowest pain tolerance on the face of the earth. And I know that. I was freaking out when they gave me shots one time, sticking long needles into my arm. And then it hurts and aches for the rest of the day. So my mom goes, oh yeah, lets go check your blood sugar before you go eat. And I was like whatever and then waited awhile, so that if she fell asleep or something then she wouldn't be able to prick my finger with that little needle. Last time she had to do it twice because barely any blood came out.
So I wait a little while and then I get up to amble my tired self into the kitchen for some peanut butter cap'n crunch. But my mom follows me and goes, yeah, let's check it, let's check it.
OMG, lady! So she gets everything out, and I'm giving her this look, like, really? REALLY? And she goes, well you asked if I could do it. And I'm like no no no no no no no, I did NOT. The first time you did it, you had the stuff all out and I asked if it hurt, and she said no, and then was all lets try it and it did kind of hurt. And then I made it into something so in my mind it will feel like you are literally carving the finger tissue out.
So she gets the needle out, and my stomach's growlin and all that, and I'm like, I'm hungry. And she goes ok, this will only take a sec.
She gets it all loaded, and she presses it on my finger and is all, "are you ready?"And then she makes a super dramatic pause and everyone's looking at me, and the truth is, is that I'm NOT ready. I am NOT ready for her to stab my finger and thief my blood. So instead I go "whoa whoa whoa, wait." And take it off my finger.
And they all look at me, and I go, can I do it myself? And my mom goes can you? Cuz she thinks I'm too chicken. Which is absolutely true. And then I press it to my finger and get ready to push the button, but I can't. Duh. I'm too afraid I'll hurt myself. You see, any other kind of pain, that I don't see coming, like a broken arm, or a really bad scrape, I can deal with it. It's the kind of pain I have to inflict on myself, or that I see coming, because I build it up to more than it needs to be. :-)
So then I decide I'm too chicken for that and I hand her back the needle, and my dad is going it's just like a little bee sting. And I'm like, yeah I know, but sometimes bee stings hurt. And then my mom does it, while I'm not paying attention and while I'm not even looking. And guess what? It only hurts a little. Just a little tiny bit, less than the first time she ever did it, less than a bee sting. Only a tiny little prick. But then guess what??
It draws not a single drop of blood. Not even a little. That means she has to do it again.
Oh God.
So she presses it to my finger and I squeeze my eyes shut, and she does it again, and she leaves it in there for a few seconds, trying to get the maximum amount of blood out. But then only a little bit comes out, and she puts it on the strip thinking maybe it's enough blood. Well, it's not. And we ruined the strip. So she has to do it AGAIN. So we choose another finger, and by now, it's just like Oh wow, what was I so worked up about? And she stabs ma finger again. And this time it just made a little hole, less blood then the first time, which was none. So there was not even an idea of blood coming out of THAT finger. So then we decide to go back to the middle finger. This time my mom shoves it onto my finger and practically breaks the button on the side of the needle she's pressing so hard. That would make it the fourth time she's tried to thief my blood. And this time I think she wants to break the needle dispenser thing. This time a lot of blood comes out, well not a lot, but more than the second time, and most definitely more than the first or third time. Enough to put on the strip. And finally my thing comes up, 84. Perfectly average, apparently below average to my brother.
My fingers were throbbing.
Now my brother's turn. She gets a new strip and pricks his finger fast and quick, he doesn't even flinch, and it's over and he has a lot of blood gushing out of the tip of his finger.
Jealous. I'm such a wuss.

GUESS WHAT??
So I have this pen pal in Germany that my Oma(whose from germany originally, and Oma means grandma in German, so that's jus what we call her) set me up with. Her name is Laura, and she's one month younger than me. So we're in the same grade and stuff. And she knows English. So originally when we were like 8, we wrote letters back and forth, but that took such a long time and cost a lot of money, so one time it was my turn to send her a letter, and I just didn't. I forgot and forgot. And then this summer my Oma was emailing her, and I'm like, whoa, dude. She's my pen pal, and she has an email, and I've been ignoring her for the past 5 years and feeling all bad, and you haven't GIVEN ME HER EMAIL ADDRESS?? So I got it and we've been emailing back and forth since the middle of June. And for her birthday I sent her a card in the mail like we used to. And then she sent me a Christmas card. But guess what???
IT'S IN GERMAN!!!!! So I'm running around waving it about, going IT'S IN GERMAN! This is EPIC! So I have to go online to translate it, but I don't have a German keyboard, so I can't really try to translate it on dictionary.com.
She gave me this card for some place called Sheep World. I desperately want to know if I can somehow buy a sheep with this card. I doubt it, but hey, whatever. I went onto this website for it, and it crashed my computer. 3 times. Like, dude, what the heck???
So I am sheepless, have a bloody finger, hungry again, and there's a big box underneath the Christmas tree that I still don't know what's inside, and I'm cold.
Sheesh, I'm a mess. :-)
Delaney