"You packed up hon?" my mom calls from downstairs.

"Just about yeah!" I reply and then add, "Please don't call me 'Hon' my name is Chris. Thanks."

I shake my head and laugh quietly under my breathe. You'd think that when I hit seventeen she'd realize that I was done with her little kid names. Oh well, gotta love moms.

I am getting ready to go on a month- long mission trip to Uganda that my church is sponsoring.

My parents dragged me into it. Don't get me wrong I'm not bitter about going but, eh, I'm not particularly excited either. As spoiled as this may seem, I like my air conditioned house, my warm bed and, well, yes- My wifi.

The part about this trip I am looking forward to is that my friend, Odette, and her parents will be coming along.

Odette and I have been friends since second grade. She's the most bubbly, hyper person I know. And I'm probably the most laid back person I know. I guess it's true what they say; opposites attract. Plus, her parents are super fun.

"Hey Chris, your girlfriend is here!" my brother Patrick chants from my bedroom door.

I look up from my luggage and roll my eyes at him. I walk up to him and push out of the way.

"You're so immature," I grumble.

He laughs wickedly and starts singing,
Can you Feel the Love Tonight? Or attempts to sing anyway.

"Shut up," I say, even though I'm not able to contain the laughter itching to escape. He's ridiculous.

Apparently modern day culture- or at least my school and my family- say that you can't be friends with someone of the opposite sex without it being romantic. Even since the second grade, we've been seen as a "cute couple." Odette and I have gotten used to all the rumors and the stares- maybe a little too much so.

I shrug off Patrick's teasing and rush down the stairs to meet Odette. I spot her just inside the entry way, a suitcase at her side and a duffel bag on her arm.

"Good morning!" I greet her with a wave and a huge grin on my face.

"Good morning Baaaaaaaaltimore!" she sings throwing her arms out to the side.

I guffaw. That's some song from a musical, I don't doubt. Whatever I say, Odette always has a Broadway tune to go along with it. It's like she lives in a Broadway show of her own. And she certainly is quite the character, let me tell you.

"Actually this is Bozeman, Montana," I tease in an authoritative voice.

"You must have taken a wrong turn."

She glares at me, but I can see the smile already forming on her lips. And sure enough, the next moment she's hunched over, hands on her knees, in a fit of giggles. She stands back up with a loud sigh, flipping her flaming red hair back over her head as she goes.

"Are you trying to be funny?" she asks, sarcastically crossing her arms over her chest.

"Apparently I was hilarious, whether or not I was trying to be," I laugh.

"Whatever," she snorts, hitting me lightly in the shoulder. "I'll laugh at anything today! I'm soooo hyper."

When aren't you? I wonder to myself.

I smile brightly and ask,

"Why so hyper?"

She laughs again.

"Cause! We're going to Africa!!! That's so cool! First time out of the country!" she squeals.

Then she begins walking further into the house, straight for the kitchen.

"What kind o' food ya got?"

I chuckle to myself. My dad says everyone needs that one friend who's so used to hanging out at your house, that they just go in and take food without shame. He calls them "pantry pals." Whether or not I like the cheesy nickname, Odette is that person.

I follow her into the kitchen and find her holding a pudding cup and licking her lips.

"Food! Glorious fooooood!" she sings while going into our silverware drawer for a spoon.

I laugh some more and grab a pudding cup of my own. Odette's pudding is gone in literally five seconds just as I'm opening mine.

"Holy crap!" I laugh. "Let me guess: No breakfast."

She puts a hand on her hip and flashes her bright teeth.

"What was your first clue?" she drawls.

I pause and swallow a spoonful of pudding.

"The fact that you literally never eat breakfast?" I reply shrugging my shoulders.

Odette starts laughing the way you laugh at world famous comedians. I nearly spit out my next spoonful of pudding as I begin laughing along with her.

"You really are going to laugh at everything today aren't you?" I tease.

She hold up her hands.

"Did I tell you or did I not?"

"You told me!" I reply simply.

"Ding ding! Give the man a prize," she jokes.

Patrick waltzes into the kitchen with a big dopey grin on his face. All my brothers love this girl. Patrick's closest in age to me; he's ten. Next you've got Isaiah who's seven and then little Eric who's four.

I live in a house full of boys and Odette lives in one full to the bursting with girls. She's got seven sisters. Seven. Each one crazier than the last. I sometimes think she comes to my house just to get away from all the girl drama. And holy cow, I don't blame her. Seven. You'd think after having eight kids, at least one would be a boy!

"Hey Patrick!" Odette squeals. "Oh my word I remember when you weren't more than this big!" she says squatting down and holding her hand literally two inches from the ground. She then stands up and pinches his cheeks. "Can I have him?"

"Sure!" I joke. "Take them all!"

This sends her into another exaggerated fit of laughter. I look up at her and raise my eyebrows.

"You won't be sleeping until two in he morning, will you?" I tease her.

"Probably not," she replies truthfully.

"That stinks, since our plane leaves at three."

"Truuuuueeee...." she giggles. "That might not end well." She turns back to Patrick and tosses his hair with her hand and lets out an exasperated sigh. "I want a little brother," she whines before singing, "Little girls, little girls everywhere I turn, I can seeeee them!"

I chuckle. She sings that one often. I've never seen Annie and could still probably sing that song by heart.
I know she really loves every one of her sisters, but it's a good song to let them know she'd appreciate it if they let her have peace every now and then, or just for a good-natured teasing.

Patrick grabs onto Odette's leg.

"Bye Chris! I have a new older sibling!" he taunts, sticking out his tongue.

I stare at my pudding and do a little hand wave, pretending I wouldn't care. "Buh-bye!" Then I look up and smile.

"Oh hey by the way, Odette how many of your sisters are coming along with us?" I ask.

"Just Jillian. The others are staying Pops."

Pops is what Odette's family calls their grandpa. He is in such good shape for his age. I marvel at the fact that he'll be watching five crazy girls for a month.

"I have to stay here with Daddy while you guys go with Mom," Patrick pouts.

"You'll like it better here," I reassure him. "Daddy will probably take you hiking every day."

Odette chuckles a little and tosses his hair again. "You're gonna miss me when I'm goooone."

I hold up my hand.

"Anything but Pitch Perfect!" I beg. "That movie stopped being cool the minute it came out.

Odette throws back her head and laughs at the ceiling.

"Can't argue with ya there," she admits.

Then she walks up and grabs my now-empty-pudding cup, and chucks it in the trash can.

"Come on!" she says pulling my arm.

"Let's taste the Montanan air one last time before we depart." She dramatically places a hand over her heart.

I smile and sarcastically roll my eyes. But really, her idea sounds great! I've never been out of Bozeman except once, when my family and I went to Disney World for a week. And now I'm realizing, though I'd never admit it, that I'm afraid of getting homesick while I'm half-way around the world.