By: Kate and Sam Gruetter

Editor-in-Chief and Sports Editor

I value distinctions. For example the distinction between hot and cold, the distinction between day and night, the distinction between parchment paper and wax paper. One person who clearly does not value distinction, especially the latter, is chief and blood relative, Katherine Gruetter. 

Have you ever had something so pristine, something so untouched by the cruelty and abrasiveness of the harsh world we live in, like a baby. I had something like this too once, my glowing, golden, glittering, orange soccer jersey, gifted to me by the prized establishment that is Los Gatos High School. However nothing gold can stay, a sentiment reverberated in Taylor Swift’s, This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, and my orange jersey was no exception. 

After 15 years of living with Katherine Gruetter I thought I would’ve gotten used to her blatant incompetence when it comes to household activities; however, she never ceases to surprise me. One of her most recent shortcomings relates to my orange jersey. 

Allow me to set the scene. The background? Never heard of it. My role in this? Irrelevant. What matters is that after a failed transfer paper attempt that left my jersey with white splotches, Katherine had the brilliant revelation to fix the jersey by ironing it with parchment paper. Why the 18 year old who has taken four advanced English classes and has written over 20 comprehensive college essays cannot read WAX paper packaging is still a mystery to me. The outcome? Melted wax burning onto my jersey. Thanks Kate. 

Okay, Kate stepping in. I need to make a couple distinctions. First of all, despite what my sister may tell you, the background to this story is important. Number one, it is important to note that Sam conveniently forgot to mention her own blunder, which is integral to this story and the reason we ended up here in the first place. 

Sam ignored all instructions on the packet of her transfer paper, skipping the necessary trim of transfer paper to avoid extra space and adhesive sticking to the jersey. Skipping this step and keeping empty space on your transfer paper means white splotches, flaky transfers, and one ugly looking jersey. And yes, I did mistake wax paper for transfer paper but, Sam, despite noticing this from the beginning, said nothing. So, while I was an innocent victim of a harmless mistake, Sam was a guilty bystander watching her own demise. And, I think it is pretty important to add that I spent an hour and a half trying to fix Sam’s jersey after the fact and successfully transferred another design onto her separate jersey. 

So, now that you’ve heard all the facts, who do you think the victorious sister was? The one who fixed her mistakes and admitted to her faults? Or the one who omitted details and left her sister to deal with her ugly jersey? You pick.