My life's story

I wrote this two years ago. Since then, we have a new addition to our family - my little shihtzu, Chewy and of course, my mum is no longer 47. I did not think to add some years to her age because 47 sounds better than 49 as is her current age.

*updated version
I'm ignorant and indolent,
And everyone knows that,
My mum claims she's my sister,
Even if she's 47,
My dad loves rocks and stones,
to the point of obsession,
My brother studies from day to night,
And comes home looking like a Zombie,
My dog's name is Rocky,
because my dad loves rocks,
My other dog is Joy,
as in Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy.
Now there's Chewy,
part Chewbacca, part ewok,
whom we all adore.

Why Mr. Cupid?

Cupid is ubiquitous. I see his usual red rosy cheeks, his mischievous blue eyes and the whitewashed toga that he seems to favor. He carries a gilded gold bow with detailed carvings that chronicle the fall of Troy and a quiver of arrows strapped to the small of his back. His natural curly blonde hair, iridescent even under a sunless sky, is one of his more sparkling features yet.

I love it when he smiles at his charges. He seems almost sublime then. When he looks at me, however, his expression changes. I suspect he does not like what he sees. Is my level of stubbornness etched so distinctively around my face that he should bequeath his not so favourable look; or is it because that there's no hope for me and it is only my personal interpretation that his countenance indicates distaste than the sympathy it is and I so detests.