Yesterday was my brother’s 33rd birthday. I had forgotten how old he was and when I asked him about it last night and he told me I honestly couldn’t believe it. 33? He’s just a little baby! I have no grounds to say that, I know, but my husband and everyone I spend time with is so much older than that. Plus, my brother along with perhaps 75% of male BYU graduates lost all his hair before he hit 25.
Plus, you have to hear my brother talk, it’s like a great-great-grandfather sitting on porch reminiscing about the days when they ain’t had no toilet paper! Damn kids these days should be grateful they can wipe they’s butts.
He has three kids, the youngest of whom is about to turn two. I asked him how he was holding up, about how his wife does it day in and out. “I only have one and I think I may be dead in a few hours. Y’all have three. HOW DOES SHE DO IT?”
He answered in his great-great-grandfatherly voice, “Well, you’ll have to ask her, right? I’m the big bad mean husband who has no idea, right? Who is completely clueless as to how all it’s all done, huh?”
And since I’m on a roll this week with my Mormon family I decided that my brother was finally old enough to face reality and I said, “If you want to know the truth, yes, and when I sit down at the coffee shop with all my other friends who have kids we talk about the big bad husband’s cock in all its glorious or not so glorious detail.”
Jon was sitting in the next room finishing up a project on the computer and he just shook his head. “Heather, you could have made your point equally well if you had just said PENIS.”
THIS COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO HAD JUST TWO MINUTES EARLIER TOLD MY COUSIN GEORGE TO USE A CONDOM, BRO.
