When Lance and Julie moved into my parents’ home after he returned to Denver after being unable to find employment in Las Vegas where he’d lived for about 10 years, they brought with them their three kids including Dakota, age 12.

The girl was never taught to have basic manners and basic respect for her very generous grandparents, who were 89 and 93 at the time.

Uncouth Bare Feet

Right off the bat, this girl was always in bare feet on the first floor where my grandparents lived.

She’d have her feet on the living room furniture without even asking my mother if this was permissible. Dakota was literally ALWAYS in her bare feet.

Now you may be thinking, “What the hell’s wrong with THAT?”

First off, feet are a smelly, grubby part of the body. Next, this girl frequently had the soles of her feet pressed into the furniture as she sat with her knees tucked to her chest. Without asking if this was permissible.

This was NOT her parents’ home. It was her GRANDPARENTS’ home. Hello?

How would you like it if I put MY bare feet all over YOUR furniture?

It also never occurred to my niece that maybe, just maybe, other people in the room could smell her grubby-looking feet.

One day my mother blurted that there was a new rule: Dakota was to have her feet covered whenever she was on the first floor.

My 89-year-old mother had recently gotten over a bad cold and expressed that she didn’t want to take any chances with being exposed to the bare feet.

Go ahead, call my mother overly neurotic about this, but remember, it was HER HOME. This gives her the right to impose a rule of no bare feet on the first floor. My father concurred.

She mentioned that Dakota could be barefoot all she wanted in the basement where Lance’s family lived. This was a spacious, very finished basement, like a second house.

My mother then asked the girl why she was always barefoot. The girl replied, “Because I like it.”

I couldn’t understand this, because being barefoot on the first floor also meant walking on portions of the floor that were hardwood. How could that be comfortable? But I guess, to each his own.

For several weeks Dakota obeyed the rule. Then one day I noticed she was barefoot again on the first floor.

I was there frequently, to help my parents out in their advanced age. I witnessed this disrespectful girl breach the rule on a recurring basis.

To this day, I regret not saying to her, “Hey Dakota, is there a reason why you’ve abandoned following the simple rule of no bare feet on the first floor?”

But I didn’t want to stir up a pot that was already bubbling over, thanks to Julie’s continuous infractions that caused my mother significant distress and pissed off my father.

Eight Different Glasses a Day of Water

Another problem was Dakota’s excessive use of drinking glasses – my parents’ drinking glasses. Apparently Julie wouldn’t supply drinking glasses for her family.

One day my mother wondered out loud why her glasses were disappearing.

Turned out that my niece used a NEW glass every time she wanted a few sips of water. She’d then put the used glasses in the dishwasher. When my mother would open the cupboard to get a glass for herself or my father, they were missing.

Will someone mind telling me why a person, even at age 12, can’t think to just use the SAME fricking glass throughout the day? Is this too difficult a plan to figure out?

And why didn’t Julie provide paper cups in the basement for this girl? The basement had a mini-kitchen WITH A WORKING SINK, for Pete’s sake.

My mother told Julie to see to it that the girl used paper cups – and there were plenty of paper cups.

However, Dakota, the disrespectful person she was, never took to this new rule. That Christmas, I got her a gag gift: a bag of paper cups. Even THAT didn’t work.

Don’t blame her age. By Christmas, she was 13. And when I myself was 12, I would have never done anything as stupid as using a NEW glass every time I wanted a few sips of water.

I’d be content with the same glass, and I certainly would have obeyed the EASY rule of using only paper cups.

Cluttering up the Kitchen Counter

This girl also never asked my mother if it was okay for her to clutter up a significant section of the kitchen counter with her play-things.

One day my mother had had it and prohibited kitchen counter use for any of Dakota’s things (coloring books, crayons, markers, little dolls, other junk).

In the basement living room was a spacious table where the girl had plenty of room to tinker around. She also had a huge table in her bedroom. Why did she use the kitchen counter? The stools beneath it were no excuse.

Taking Over the TVs

One day my father tried to record a program on TV and saw that the recording capacity was close to 100 percent. Someone had set a TON of shows to be recorded. It was Dakota.

What the fuck. Do you realize just HOW MANY shows must be set for recording in order to drive the capacity close to 100 percent? That is a ginormous amount of shows!

My father ordered Lance to put an end to this.

Another problem was that my niece spent a hell of a lot of time draped on the living room furniture watching TV, or stationed at the kitchen nook glued to the TV there. And always cartoons! She was home schooled and had way too much time on her hands.

My 93-year-old father told Lance that the girl was imposing on his privacy, such as when he wanted to relax on his favorite recliner to read, watch TV or nap.

There was at least one TV in the basement. Why was this girl frequently using the two TVs in my parents’ living quarters during times that NOBODY was using the TV downstairs?

Again, don’t blame her age. I was never this inconsiderate when I was 12 or 13.