Sunday, January 17, 2010

Sentimental feelings....

I'm listening to my dryer as we speak. I think it's been eating Lucian's lunch money. All of it. I'm hoping nickle-plated coins aren't flammable, but, knowing my luck....
I had to get a birthday card for my brother today. He will be 37 (though, I feel like he surpassed 37 about 10 years ago) and today was the family soiree. Of course, picking a birthday card for one's older brother isn't an easy task. Same can be said for a gift. There are certain considerations that need to be made. One, you can't hide anything from him, and vice versa. You grew up together, through the "accidental" poopings, the braces, the bad relationship choices, the kids, the tragedies. A good card requires honesty. Two, you just spent Friday afternoon with your 13-year-old nephew who aired out the family laundry so that suddenly you know that the birthday boy has been sleepwalking and spilling gallon jugs of milk on the floor and blaming it on the dogs, pissing in laundry baskets due to bad reactions to Ambien, and taking massive amounts of steroids for an overblown case of Lyme's.
Did I mention that he goes commando most of the time? Yeah, nephews don't hold back.
So, what kind of card do you get for this guy?
Well, to be sure, I whizzed by all of the emotional, "I'm glad you're my brother" cards, which basically boils down to anything with a puppy silhouette or a sunset on the front. Which left me with the musical cards. I made an ass out of myself browsing through those. Every 2 seconds a weird song would ring out through the store and I would laugh out loud. Twice a manager scoped out the aisle to see if things were "OK."
I found a card that played "bad to the bone." It was perfect.
Now, the gift wasn't so easy. He's broke, he's had two heart surgeries, his legs are swollen like a pregnant woman's with gestational diabetes (again, Lyme's), he limps, he coughs, he wears the same corduroy Salvation Army shirt (by choice) at least 3-4 times a week.
The gift could only be one thing: A brand for the grill. You heard me, an interchangeable brand that you can customize and then sizzle on to grilled meats.
We had fun coming up with phrases to use on BBQ pork.
"I could say "f*** you if we have guests I don't like."
"Or, or, you could spell out 'use a condom' before Zeb (teen aged son) goes on a date."
Oh the possibilities. We had fun coming up with possible terms to brand on the ass end of a cow. I'm really looking forward to summer barbecues at his house. Especially given his alarming dyslexia.
Happy Birthday big guy!

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