I’ve talked to the recalcitrant brother twice this week, which is more than I talk to him most months. He’s settled into his new living arrangement and now has internet access. He called to get my email address. I gave him my work one, and he promptly sent me an email with “free porn” as the subject line.
Of course, the “protective filter” we have at work quarantined that sucker.
So, today he called to find out why I hadn’t emailed him back. Just now, he’s sent me another email called “candy puppies flowers” that says “hopefully this will squeeze by your filter”.
I’m really excited that he has email. I miss him so much and we just don’t have the opportunity (hee, that’s a word with a lot behind it) to spend much time together other than at family functions. Talking to him on the phone, I’m always surprised by how articulate and funny and wise he is, because he’s not like that around our parents.
Living with the Butcher, as much as I bitch about it, has been one of the most fortunate things in my life. When I left home to go to college, he was a little boy who hated me (he’ll tell you the same thing) for being such a bitch about letting him befriend the stalker.
I’m very glad that we’ve gotten to know each other and become friends as adults. Not that we wouldn’t have if we hadn’t lived together, but he’s six years younger than me. It would have taken us a long time to become friends.
The recalcitrant brother and I have always had a relationship where he does his thing, I do mine, but, when the chips are down, we have each other’s back. Back when he was a scrawny sophomore in high school, he was the one who finally put an end to the stalking with a baseball bat.
So, I’d like to negotiate some way for us to just be friends, for it not to be always some crisis that brings us together.
Probably, this email stuff is a good start.