My brother is the opposite of me in
almost everyway. He is a total minimalist. For example once I bought him wall
and table décor as a house-warming gift and he rolled his eyes and inquired
about the receipt. It was only after convincing him that the ladies need a
hallway mirror to check their make-up when they come over that he
consented. So he doesn’t have a
lot of stuff, but when he decides to splurge it is on techi gadgets, with price
tags that make my head spin. Okay, honestly that doesn’t take much. I am the girl with the quasi-broken hand
me down ipod shuffle with 2 settings play/ off, and the only flat screen I own
is a kindle e-reader. But my brother is cool! He’s got it all. The so fast
it’ll melt your face Mac-book pro pro, the I-pad, the Mini Cooper, and the
swagger like Mick Jagger. Alright, now I am getting carried away.
My
brother is also the opposite of me in his preparation and organization. Most
mornings you’d find me rinsing toothpaste out of my mouth with coffee from my
mug, as I sprint to the car. Where as my brother is the annoying guy that
arrives to work at 7:50, and has everything lined out for the day. Which is why
when he was preparing to come home this evening to visit the family he had his
little cooper all stuffed like santa’s slay with gifts and gadgets to give
away. Then some sculduggerous Christmas hater chose to break the window of his
car, and remove ALL the fun toys.
Thieves
get my blood boiling in a special way. When a thief stole my wallet at a border
in Central America I didn’t stand there and just start crying. No, I ran that
carnál into the jungle, shouting obscenities I don’t want my mother to
read. Then there was the time my
bicycle was stolen from my basement, and I posted signs around town that said
“I hope you ride my bike without a helmet and get hit by a monster truck.”
When someone steals from someone you
love it gets you upset in a whole different way. A way that is more helpless and
less justified, but equally infuriating. You know what mr. car thief you didn’t
just steal a lap top or a jacket. You stole Christmas! You stole a mom getting
to coddle her son for 3 of her 7 days a year, and her opportunity to share some
part of his exciting big move. You stole a father’s opportunity to tell his son
that he thinks “he is a good man, and he is really proud of him.” You stole my
chance to wrangle him into making mom-mom’s sugar cookies, and laugh at our
silly parents. These are things that would have been humdrum had he been here,
but will be missed when they don’t happen. Like a stockings stuffed with
toothpaste and deodorant.
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| Scene of the crime |
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