We had lunch with my little brother today. He's four years younger than I am and from an entirely different planet. He and I generally avoid each other, but I needed to collect some money from him because we're going in together on a Father's Day present for my dad. He asked if we wanted to meet him for lunch (we went to Boise today) and we set up a meeting for noon at Saigon Grille, a Vietnamese restaraunt.
I should explain early on that I have very low expecations from "Junior." He quit a well-paying job to go back to college to specialize in criminal justice. That would be fine, but as he said at lunch today, he "refuses to be a bottom feeder--you know, the guys who write the tickets?" He wants to go straight to being a detective. This offended my ticket-writing, game warden husband. Matt generously didn't say anything.
Anyway, Junior showed up 20 minutes late to lunch. We'd given up on him and had already started eating by the time he strolled in the door. Long story shorter, I collected the $23 from him, but it looks like he's going to park his car in my front yard for a week or two as he tries to sell it. I could have said no, but I didn't because it seems like it's just easier to let Junior have his way so that it keeps the peace. Life was so much easier when I could just bitch slap him. Why'd he have to end up four inches taller than me?