The boy's been bad, let's keep him after school.
Yesterday turned out to be surprisingly fun, even though I was miffed at missing Drew's wedding, and really, really didn't want to be around family members.
Robbie and I stayed around the crowd long enough to be seen, then ran out to my car to blare the air conditioner and radio. Brother/sister bonding and bad mouthing of random family members ensued. It was really, really nice. Typically, I don't get to talk to my brother much since other family members hog him. Hurrah for Momma not having the house's air conditioning on and little kids getting on Robbie's nerves as much as mine!
I think both of us are in trouble, though.
Mom was asking everyone what they wanted to drink (after she'd come outside and made us get out of my car and come inside for food. Apparently, my mother doesn't provide "To Go" service. I know. Robbie asked.), Aunt Barbara made the remark that Uncle Edward was "3 times over 21" and was therefore fully capable of getting his own drink. An "Oh, god" look was exchanged between me and my brother, but we managed to keep quiet. Later, after Robbie and I had raided the deserts and everyone else was still on real food, Uncle Edward brought his plate into the kitchen (where Robbie and I were gaurding the table of deserts to make sure no one got something that we wanted), and Aunt Barbara asked if he ate anything.
"No, there's still a little left, but I'm stuffed." And he showed her the plate.
"You know we eat anything on our plates!" replies she.
"I thought he was three times over twenty-one," says Robbie.
"So he's capable of deciding how much he wants to eat," continues I.
Uncle Edward snickered, Diane snickered, Granny coughed, everyone else glared at us.
Yes.
Robbie and I stayed around the crowd long enough to be seen, then ran out to my car to blare the air conditioner and radio. Brother/sister bonding and bad mouthing of random family members ensued. It was really, really nice. Typically, I don't get to talk to my brother much since other family members hog him. Hurrah for Momma not having the house's air conditioning on and little kids getting on Robbie's nerves as much as mine!
I think both of us are in trouble, though.
Mom was asking everyone what they wanted to drink (after she'd come outside and made us get out of my car and come inside for food. Apparently, my mother doesn't provide "To Go" service. I know. Robbie asked.), Aunt Barbara made the remark that Uncle Edward was "3 times over 21" and was therefore fully capable of getting his own drink. An "Oh, god" look was exchanged between me and my brother, but we managed to keep quiet. Later, after Robbie and I had raided the deserts and everyone else was still on real food, Uncle Edward brought his plate into the kitchen (where Robbie and I were gaurding the table of deserts to make sure no one got something that we wanted), and Aunt Barbara asked if he ate anything.
"No, there's still a little left, but I'm stuffed." And he showed her the plate.
"You know we eat anything on our plates!" replies she.
"I thought he was three times over twenty-one," says Robbie.
"So he's capable of deciding how much he wants to eat," continues I.
Uncle Edward snickered, Diane snickered, Granny coughed, everyone else glared at us.
Yes.