Family ties.

Standard

If you were ever in any doubt as to whether my younger brother and I were related (if the similar manners, nerdiness, and inability to look strangers in the eye weren’t enough), he called last night from the grocery store parking lot to say this:

“Uhm, it turns out the car window had been left open. I totally take the blame for that. It means I kinda sat in a puddle, though, so I got a car blanket from the trunk, but it turns out it had dirt on it, so my pants got covered in brown stuff. Basically, it looks like I crapped my pants and so, yeah, I didn’t go into the store. I’m going home to change. And maybe just figure out how to make dinner with what we have in the house.”

 

 

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