brotherly love?

 

I am trying to erase yesterday’s happenings from my mind but can’t seem to do so. I feel like if maybe I type it out for the world(world= the few people who ever read this) then it will no longer fester inside of me like an ulcer or a scratch(…?) or something else that festers due to resentment. Yeah, something like that.

Yesterday as I was experimenting with large barrel curling irons and the effects of sunless tanner(effective!) and how long I could stand watching the 40th birthday episode of ‘Bethenny Ever After’, my brother rushed into my room in a hot panic asking for my help(…my mother was in Spokane; I’m not usually the first-choice when someone is in need of help) with his tuxedo.

Right then and there, I should’ve known that things were not right. Everything about the scene was off: my brother asking for my help, my brother wearing a tuxedo, me lathering sunless tanner all over my legs, and Bethenny being annoying(I usually like her!).

When I asked him what exactly he needed help with(and why was he wearing a tux? and do my legs look orange? and does he think Bethenny looks fourty?), he looked downward…

His zipper wouldn’t zip.

I started debating all the plans of attack to fixing his pants; correction: I started debating all the plans of attack to fixing his pants that would also minimize the undesired family closeness.

The end result: me sewing up his fly while pretending that what was happening wasn’t actually happening while talking about the weather, and doubling numbers, and Bethenny’s husband Jason and other neutral conversation fillers while cursing inside my head because the only way I could sew it shut was to leave the pants on because they were small and tight and I was dying being that close to the Mosman Multiplier of Chad.

Did that come out fast? Because as I typed that, I didn’t breathe.

Let’s just pretend that never happened?

Also, does Bethenny look 40 to you? She doesn’t, right?

In the meantime, here’s some precious picture I took of Chad-man at his Frosh last weekend. My ma and pa were gone so I got to play the role of annoying-parent-with-a-camera.

 

Note his overenthusiastic, almost pained smile. It’s like he was foreseeing what was going to transpire the next weekend…

P.S. I have a serious girl-crush on the girl in the coral heels and bright lip stick. I do not remember being that stylish my freshman year.