Thanks for: Brothers With the Man Flu

Dear Adult Brother Who Sneezes All Over Everything,

Why oh why are you unable to ever properly cover your face holes when you’re spewing bodily fluids everywhere? It’s not that hard to not sneeze on people! It’s definitely not hard not to intentionally cough on people. As your elder sister I command that you stop. It’s not funny.

Stop trying to sneeze on me.

The boy comes home for one week and it just so happens to be the week that he’s ‘deathly ill’. By which I mean he has the sniffles-wiffles and wants dear mommy to make him chicken noodle soup and buy him Popsicles.

Buy your own popsicles Hedgehog.

But your snot induced sniveling does procure one item of thankfulness – no dishes for me. Like magical clockwork as soon as the parents hear the vaguest sniffing, everything jumps straight to the dishwasher. This is nothing short of a miracle. Our parents hate the dishwasher with a fiery passion that I can’t quite comprehend. Somehow it’s evil. It apparently never cleans anything properly and takes too much water and is just a colossal pain the rear. Apparently.

This just seems to translate into Aria drying a whole ton of dishes every day.

But the parents have concluded that the one thing saving grace of the dishwasher is it’s ability to sanitize. So when someone is sick its suddenly a dishwasher-pooloza. No dishes for me. Bliss.

So thank you younger sibling for taking that chore away for a few days. But on the other hand, if you get me sick, I will re-infect you and you can take this right back to your generally unclean student housing.

And no, you’re not that sick, I don’t feel that sorry for you, and it’s just a cold.

Go get a kleenex.

Aria

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Thanks For: WHAT DID I DO WITH THE DONKEY LAST YEAR? and other Christmas classics

Dearest Mother and Brother,

Confession time – Mom, the Hedgehog and I shared a chuckle when you asked us i”f your big balls were positioned right between the sticks”. You of course meant the red Christmas balls perched in the garland on the fireplace but we went a whole other route. Consider it sibling bonding fun times.

In fact the entire Christmas decorating experience turned into a bizarre list of catchphrases.

As always, setting up the nativity is my job. I finally found out why this year. Apparently it’s not because I’m so skillful at arranging camels but because “you don’t like the feel of Styrofoam”. Basically I’m just there to take things out of boxes for you. The Father escaped to the office. At least I’m not Hedgehog. His new life purpose is to:

1) Lift this heavy thing

2) Reach that tall place

3) Hold this thing right there. No there. A little to the left. Up. No too much. Down a touch. I said a touch. Don’t you know how much a touch is? That’s too much. Put it back. Hold still. Stop moving. What do you think. There? No I think we should put it over there. Hmmmmm. Repeat x10

So while the brother is lifting heavy things I’m busy wrestling with a wooden Mary, Joseph, Jesus and the crew. Mary, Joseph and Jesus are the easy part. Jesus goes in Mary’s arms, Joseph looks down adoringly. Put the whole thing in the middle. Shepherds go around the back and sides. It’s easy

Then there are the animals. Do you know how many animals I’ve got to wrangle on a piece of burlap ARTISTICALLY?! 4 sheep, an oxen, a goat, a GIANT CAMEL and a donkey. Oh the donkey. Just when I’d artistically placed the sheep, bunched the ox and goat together and stuffed the camel in the back corner. BOOM. I missed the donkey. This of course leads me to shout, “What did I do with the donkey last year?”.

Not a phrase I’d normally say.

Even better. When the mother was swapping her fall sticks for winter sticks (just nod at the difference) we got the delightful phrase, “There is a goat stuck to my scarf, someone help!”

Phenomenal. That’s what I’m thankful for. Rouge Christmas Goats.

Aria

Thanks For: Backseat Driving Little Brothers

Dear Overly Cautious Hedgehog of a Brother,

I know that its *our* car but if you insist on dramatically flinging yourself against the window in fear and criticizing the space distance between cars then I will relegate you to the backseat. All 6 foot 5 of you. Stuffed in the backseat. Knees banging your chin. This goes doubly if you ever again attempt to touch the steering wheel. DO NOT TOUCH.

I was just being a superb big sister and picking you up in the dead of night to bring you from your University home of filth and squallor to the Kingdom of Mother’s cooking and laundry service. Do you know what I was missing on your behalf? The latest episode of my current favourite tv show. I missed my OTP and the shipping. Then I got spoiled by tumblr. All for you little brother.

And yet you think you’re hilarious by dramatically hanging off the door every time I make a turn or by over-flinching each time we stop. “Slow down. You’re speeding. What if you hit a deer? You need to leave 3 seconds between you and the car in front of you. Stop stopping so fast. turn RIGHT NOW. You should have known that even though you don’t live in this city. You should signal sooner.”

You are such a baby driver. Also I will lovingly turn up the country music as loud as it goes until I can no longer hear you. And I know how much you love country  music.

So little brother. Thanks for the driving lesson, I’m glad that you’re so invested in my safety. I’m thankful that you think you’re hilarious as I’m told it’s good for the self esteem.

Just stop doing it when I’m driving,

Aria

Thanks For: Big Little Brothers Who Steal Showers

Dear Younger but Taller Brother aka Hedgehog,

As your elder and wiser sister there’s a rule that I will always love and feel protective of you. However, stop persisting in taking over MY bathroom right WHEN I HAVE TO PEE SO BAD. I do recall that technically it’s our bathroom but you’ve been back to school and moved out for a couple of months now and I feel that realistically I should now own 80% of the bathroom time. Now that you’re home for reading week, I feel I need to remind you of a few ground rules.

Especially due to optimal bathroom time. For example, first thing in the morning when I wake up (to go to work, not lounge about all day like you) please VACATE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. I have timed my wake-up to match the maximum bladder allowance and i really really really need to pee. You know what I can’t do if you’re in there shaving? Pee.

And honestly, you have basically no facial hair. Plus it’s blonde. You do not need to shave more than one a week. I promise you’re still manly. Adorably manly.

Also, in regards to the shower. Places wet towels do not belong include:

on the floor If you keep doing this mother will kill you. with love. but you’ll be dead.

on the shower floor You do this so that mother won’t see it. I applaud. But you know who sees it? Me. I will kill you. with love.

hanging over the shower directly before I’m about to shower Your butt was on that towel. I do not want to touch it. This is simple. Especially because it’s wet and so many germs.

draped over the toilet Just a hint, someone may want to use that. Also, girls sit. Wet toilet seats are not things we want to sit upon.

in the bathroom sink Under what circumstance could this EVER belong here?

in the drawers under the bathroom sink Why do you think I won’t find it here? I keep my shampoo/conditioner/etc in that drawer

Please attempt to put the wet towels directly into the laundry where they belong.

However, because I’m your elder sister. Welcome home. I’m thankful for your existence in spite of all of these things. I’ll even let you get away with using my body wash. I respect your desire to smell like cucumber melon or shea butter.

With necessary sibling love,

Aria

PS – WOULD IT KILL YOU TO CHANGE THE TOILET PAPER WHEN IT’S EMPTY?!?