I had the chance tonight to do one of my very favorite things. We went to dinner with some of my brother and SILs friends here in Ft. Myers.
My brother has lived in northern MN for more than 30 years. He’s carefully built an image over the years there; and much of it is based on being a bit mysterious about his youth. When he does tell his friends anything, it is always outrageously false tales of growing up “barefoot in a log cabin the Ozarks”, which is just his way of pandering to their pre-conceived notions about Missouri.
So, on the occasions when his worlds collide, I have the opportunity of setting the record straight.
His friends are always delighted to learn something about him that will give them an edge.
Tonight, we were sitting around the dinner table with a couple who were eager to learn about our childhood. They wanted to see just how much of his account was true.
It gave me the chance to drop my number one favorite bombshell line: “So, has Charles told you about how we grew up in a commune?” I quickly follow with, “Oh, yes. And then there is the whole glue, sniffing thing.”
The reactions never fail to tickle me and fluster him. Such great fun. Who says brothers and sister grow out of the urge to torture each other!?!