It took my brother 25 minutes before he got to my crib. It must have been the mountain of a street I live on, I didn’t think he could make it up that hill in one try. My brother also has an annoying habit of ringing or knocking on a door more than once on the initial go. Who does that! I wonder if he expects better results from the incessant ringing. Let me just sprint to the door as fast as I can knocking anything or anyone out of my way because my brother cannot stand at the door for two minutes. I have transformed it into a game, for every ring or knock I make him wait an extra 30 seconds. I lost count after the 16th ring. 8 minutes later I got tired of his yelling o
f obscenities on my porch as kids were eating their Count Chocula cereal.
As I opened the door the glimpse of his round sweating face conjured up images of glazed ham that had me craving it like I was16 weeks into a pregnancy. “You okay Earl? Do you want to sit down?” My brother gave me a look that warranted the initiation of any drunken bar fight around last call. “I know you were standing by the door Arthur. I could hear you laughing.” How does he always know?!
Earl sat down at the counter and rifled through the dated newspaper that had become a recycled placemat. The look on his face showed his discomfort for the hygienic state of my kitchen counter. As he glanced at his sports watch he shot me a look any disappointed would give their underachieving son, as if to say I created this?! “So you really going through with this?” I answered Earl with a confident yes. He shook his head and followed with, “There is no way you are getting this job five minutes in the interview and they are going to mark you as a kid-toucher. Just try not to have a boner in your pants when you bullshit about how much you love the children.” Earl mockingly chuckled at me. He really did care about me in his own way. He was just trying to detour me from what he thought made absolutely no sense.
Earl couldn’t understand why I was doing this, and how I expected to get the job. It was at this point that I explained my deceiving plan to him. When I was finished the look on his face showed he was somewhat impressed with my plan even though he did not want to admit it. His answer for me however was the same as it has always been, why don’t I just work for my dad?
My brother didn’t want to admit it but he was miserable working for my dad. The long hours and the added pressure put on him as the next in line to head the company. He would never tell me this but I think in many ways Earl envied the way I lived. So whenever he ever spoke about me working for the “empire” I knew he was speaking for my dad and not himself.
f obscenities on my porch as kids were eating their Count Chocula cereal.As I opened the door the glimpse of his round sweating face conjured up images of glazed ham that had me craving it like I was16 weeks into a pregnancy. “You okay Earl? Do you want to sit down?” My brother gave me a look that warranted the initiation of any drunken bar fight around last call. “I know you were standing by the door Arthur. I could hear you laughing.” How does he always know?!
Earl sat down at the counter and rifled through the dated newspaper that had become a recycled placemat. The look on his face showed his discomfort for the hygienic state of my kitchen counter. As he glanced at his sports watch he shot me a look any disappointed would give their underachieving son, as if to say I created this?! “So you really going through with this?” I answered Earl with a confident yes. He shook his head and followed with, “There is no way you are getting this job five minutes in the interview and they are going to mark you as a kid-toucher. Just try not to have a boner in your pants when you bullshit about how much you love the children.” Earl mockingly chuckled at me. He really did care about me in his own way. He was just trying to detour me from what he thought made absolutely no sense.
Earl couldn’t understand why I was doing this, and how I expected to get the job. It was at this point that I explained my deceiving plan to him. When I was finished the look on his face showed he was somewhat impressed with my plan even though he did not want to admit it. His answer for me however was the same as it has always been, why don’t I just work for my dad?
My brother didn’t want to admit it but he was miserable working for my dad. The long hours and the added pressure put on him as the next in line to head the company. He would never tell me this but I think in many ways Earl envied the way I lived. So whenever he ever spoke about me working for the “empire” I knew he was speaking for my dad and not himself.
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