My brother is the original pant pooping hipster.

Oct 19 2012

I told my friends and family this week that I’d be super cool about the whole hanging-out-at-Crappy-Pictures / byline-in-Huffington-Post-Parents thing as soon as I finished pooping my pants.

Then my brother was jealous of me.

You know what? It’s OK, friends. It’s natural. I’m his older sister, and it’s hard being a baby brother sometimes especially when the big kid gets to go do big-kid stuff. I get it.

Except Jeff ruined jealousy because, in typical little-brother fashion, he was jealous about all the wrong things. The writing stuff? He was only congratulatory and awesome and supportive and blah-blah-blah-my-sister’s-a-writer-whatever which was all part of his jerky little baby plan. No, it wasn’t the writing fun that bothered him. Jeff was jealous about the pants-pooping.

So, fine. There you have it. For the record, and in the interest of sibling harmony, I’ve got nothing on Jeff when it comes to pooping pants:

My brother is the original pant pooping hipster.

And our parents wondered if we’d ever get along. Pfft. Parents, you guys.