Erin Go Bleh
My brother and I have a complicated relationship.
Like all siblings, we bicker. A lot. And our fights usually end up with him taking a swing at me, me ducking, him hitting whatever hard object is behind me at full force, and him running off to tattle that I "made him hurt his hand."
(Huh?)
(Okay, so maybe this depicts us a few years ago. Now we’re much more mature: he says I’m such a snob, I say yeah, well, you’re a slob, and we’re even.)
This bickering stems from the fact that we are as different as night and day. He plays hockey, I dance. He hates school, I miss it so much I’m rereading all my English 314 books. He plays Playstation for at least four hours a day, I can’t get past Level 1 of Mario Bros. The 2-D version.
However, these differences are best exemplified by my brother’s choice of attire to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day at school today:
- Green bucket hat
- Green t-shirt with the word Dublin on it
- Green plaid pajama pants
- Sneakers
- And, my favorite touch, shamrock boxer shorts worn over the pajama pants.
I’m really not one to talk about fashion, given the fact that right now I’m wearing grey sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, and a ponytail (I’m so hot. Yes, the italics indicate extreme sarcasm). But…I worry for my brother because he has no common sense. The other day he made my mom bring him medicine because he couldn’t figure out if he should take Advil or Pepto-Bismol to treat his headache. He couldn’t figure out how to cook pasta ("you add water to it?"). And now this.
Honey, the instructions are in the name: Undergarments.
Undergarments.
As in under your garments.
*Sigh*
In reality, I’m really proud of him. He just got into college at Salisbury state (YAY!), he can crack me up with his impressions, and he’s genuinely a sweet kid.
At least dressed like this he won’t be meeting girls…
