My sister, always creates an unexpected performance, like a lemur with long arms swinging into every situation with the mentality of crushing the competition, like old cars at the junkyard. My father, screaming at the top of his lungs, screaming too loud for the level of play he is watching, as the air dances to cacophonous jumble of letters. Myself, like an ice cube in July, cools until the heat of summer and competition burrow into my mind. But later I deny that said heat had ever confronted me.

But my mother, sweet as the flowers blooming in that summer sun, would never subject herself to the competition that we frequently get lost in. I begin to feel lost like a lionfish living out of the water. But she will take you back to your home, without being exposed to the venom that roots them in the ground leaving them cold in July. But with mother's love these people will soon feel the warmth of that blazing July sun.