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.
……….
Hahahahahahaha! This is so familiar. My younger sister stayed last weekend and initiated a jolly game of scatalogical one-upmanship entitled “Have You Ever Pooed In Your Pants?” We come from classy families, you and I 😉 xo
Scatological one-upmanship. Oh, yes. This sounds EXACTLY like something we’d play, although we might have to change the title to “I pooped (my/a/the) _______” and fill in the blank. I can think of family members who can supply “pants,” “forest,” “under the porch,” “church,” and “closet.” And that’s just of the top of my head. Thanks for the suggestion, Fiona. I know what we’re doing at our next extended family dinner. 😉