Lashing Out Together
I have a younger brother. Readers that follow this blog with Trekkie-quality fervor may know him as Mr. Lashes. I won't tell you why--given that you know the intimate details of what's been happening in my reproductive tract for the past few weeks, I'd like to retain some semblance of mystery.
Mr. Lashes is 5 1/2 years younger than me and now is many, many inches taller than me. We had our first real argument (i.e., one not concerning allocation of toys, distribution of cookies, or control of the remote) in 2005, when we were both in our twenties. As a sister, I have a lot to answer for, but Mr. Lashes has one of the most purely good hearts of anyone I've ever known.
We've certainly had our differences. I was more a city kid and he was more a suburban kid, due to the places where we spent our formative years. I was shy and quiet; he was a brave social butterfly. I sucked at sports and was an obnoxious, hardworking teacher's pet; he was athletic and did well academically, but wasn't a bookworm. In spite of these differences, we pretty much share the same sense of humor. Getting to know him better as an adult, and even getting a little closer to him through this blog, has been one of the greatest joys of my life.
When he was very young, I once poured garlic powder in a little Dixie cup and told him that it was Pixie Dust and that he should eat it. I still feel guilty about that. I'm so sorry, Mr. Lashes. I hope this public apology helps.
One fairly recent Christmas, he asked me what I wanted. I was particularly stressed out that year. I told him I wanted a stuffed Kermit the Frog. When he couldn't find one in stores, he gave me the one he'd had since he was a baby, and told me I needed it more than he did. I cry when I think about it.
Mr. Lashes has had a really shitty time for the past few months--a shitty time that may reach its peak tomorrow. I have some understanding of what he's going through and wish I could make it all better for him.
Good luck, Mr. Lashes, but don't worry: Kermit and I love you always, no matter what.
Mr. Lashes is 5 1/2 years younger than me and now is many, many inches taller than me. We had our first real argument (i.e., one not concerning allocation of toys, distribution of cookies, or control of the remote) in 2005, when we were both in our twenties. As a sister, I have a lot to answer for, but Mr. Lashes has one of the most purely good hearts of anyone I've ever known.
We've certainly had our differences. I was more a city kid and he was more a suburban kid, due to the places where we spent our formative years. I was shy and quiet; he was a brave social butterfly. I sucked at sports and was an obnoxious, hardworking teacher's pet; he was athletic and did well academically, but wasn't a bookworm. In spite of these differences, we pretty much share the same sense of humor. Getting to know him better as an adult, and even getting a little closer to him through this blog, has been one of the greatest joys of my life.
When he was very young, I once poured garlic powder in a little Dixie cup and told him that it was Pixie Dust and that he should eat it. I still feel guilty about that. I'm so sorry, Mr. Lashes. I hope this public apology helps.
One fairly recent Christmas, he asked me what I wanted. I was particularly stressed out that year. I told him I wanted a stuffed Kermit the Frog. When he couldn't find one in stores, he gave me the one he'd had since he was a baby, and told me I needed it more than he did. I cry when I think about it.
Mr. Lashes has had a really shitty time for the past few months--a shitty time that may reach its peak tomorrow. I have some understanding of what he's going through and wish I could make it all better for him.
Good luck, Mr. Lashes, but don't worry: Kermit and I love you always, no matter what.
Copyright 2005-2010 by Arabella and Trattoria Breve. All rights reserved. 11:17 AM
8 Comments:
That's the cutest Kermit I've ever seen. I was picturing a doll with long dangly appendages and googly eyes, but that doll and your brother-love makes me teary.
I'm wishing the best for Mr.Lashes. He at least has one helluva sister. :)
Sibling love is great. I hope life smooths out for him. But while it's rocky, I'm glad you-n-Kermit are there for him. With your powers combined...
I don't have any brothers, so I don't understand that particular sibling dynamic. Yours sounds like a sweetheart.
Good luck with whatever it is, Mr. Lashes. With Arabella for a sister, you're already halfway there.
Good luck to your brother!
If he's half as smart/talented as his sister, he'll do fine! We're pulling for you, Mr. Lashes. Great name, btw.
One time I put vinegar in a cup and told my little thumb-sucking brother it was coca-cola.
Love the Kermie and Mr. Lashes!!
I love this post.
I hope things with your brother get better. And I hope that my children are as close as you and your brother are.
Thank you all so much for your kind wishes! Mr. Lashes called me on Saturday afternoon; his hard work has ended and he's taking a little break. He's in very good spirits, and he is very appreciative of your sweet comments, as am I!
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