My darling Colby did fly his drone helicopter thing right into my hair back in Christmas 2015. The previous Christmas he got a remote control monster truck and drove it into my head as well. It's like a Christmas tradition, some families leave milk and cookies for Santa, my family hurls their new gifts into my face. I had to cut this sucker out of my hair. Well I probably could have untangled it by New Year's had I been truly dedicated but patience isn't one of my strong suits.
Anyways, my parents went on a trip for their anniversary and decided that after 30 years of marriage, 48 hours together was the most they could take. For these 2 days I assigned everyone jobs based on their personal strengths. So naturally I had almost all of the jobs because I have the most strengths, sorry boys. I did the cooking, dishes, cleaning, taking care of Colby's broken toe and activities. I suggested we get tattoos, something tasteful for the lower back but the guys punked out. Patrick's one job was to make sure the oven was turned off, a task that honestly I have no idea who does when I'm not there. He did manage to turn it off 50% of the time for those 2 days. Colby was in charge of answering the phone since he actually lives there. My only other job was turning off lights. For some reason, my brothers and father cannot seem to turn off the garage or pantry lights. They will completely forget I'm in a room and turn off the light when they leave but Heaven forbid our cars or snacks sit in the dark.
On day 2 I was singing I Wanna Be Sedated all day, not because of my brothers, just because the feeling of needing serious sedation is my homeostasis. That night Colby gave me a weird look and I found out that while his vocabulary is generally more expansive than Patrick's he thought sedated meant seduced. Bless his heart for ignoring the first 20 times he thought I was breaking out in song about my need for romantic attention.
I learned a lot about my brothers for the 48 hours that I would have been their one phone call from jail. For instance, Patrick recently learned the word gentrification. He doesn't have a firm grasp on the definition yet but he still uses it every chance he gets. He's also on some crazy diet that is allowing him to eat frozen chicken patties in between 2 Eggos and still lose weight. He wouldn't eat Subway with me and Colby because it would violate his chicken and waffles diet. I'm as impressed as I am disgusted. I discovered that Colby is terrible at slingshots. Like really, really bad. Let's just say it's a good thing there's no Colby and Goliath story or I seriously doubt Christianity would have gotten off the ground. There's nothing miraculous about a teenager getting his butt kicked after slinging a few stones straight into the dirt near a giant.
All in all it was a pretty successful brothersitting job. I would say definitely better than when I was in college and got so frustrated with them in Walmart that on the way home I threatened to wreck the car and take us all, but not quite as fun as the time I took them to see Christmas lights and had to slam on the brakes to avoid a massive owl in the middle of the street. It was terrifying. After yelling a 4 letter word and almost having it appear in my pants, Colby cried the whole way home because he thought I was going to Hell. If your brothers aren't concerned for your immortal soul, who is?
I learned a lot about my brothers for the 48 hours that I would have been their one phone call from jail. For instance, Patrick recently learned the word gentrification. He doesn't have a firm grasp on the definition yet but he still uses it every chance he gets. He's also on some crazy diet that is allowing him to eat frozen chicken patties in between 2 Eggos and still lose weight. He wouldn't eat Subway with me and Colby because it would violate his chicken and waffles diet. I'm as impressed as I am disgusted. I discovered that Colby is terrible at slingshots. Like really, really bad. Let's just say it's a good thing there's no Colby and Goliath story or I seriously doubt Christianity would have gotten off the ground. There's nothing miraculous about a teenager getting his butt kicked after slinging a few stones straight into the dirt near a giant.
All in all it was a pretty successful brothersitting job. I would say definitely better than when I was in college and got so frustrated with them in Walmart that on the way home I threatened to wreck the car and take us all, but not quite as fun as the time I took them to see Christmas lights and had to slam on the brakes to avoid a massive owl in the middle of the street. It was terrifying. After yelling a 4 letter word and almost having it appear in my pants, Colby cried the whole way home because he thought I was going to Hell. If your brothers aren't concerned for your immortal soul, who is?
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