There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full. — Henry Kissinger
Ah, servitude. The great role of butlers, limo drivers, and the siblings of brothers with a broken leg. For assuming you didn’t know, my brother, Zach, broke his leg on the monkey bars. And because he just forced me to get him a bowl of cereal after making me stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down to return two types of spoons he didn’t like, I will let you believe that those monkey bars were the little kiddie ones at the playground.
Christmas is the season of giving. But, if you read my post two weeks ago, you’d realize that giving often sucks.
Even though people report how much better it is to assist others than it is to receive, let me assure you, it is much nicer to have your own chair positioned at the proper distance from the television while you sit in it than it is to be the one moving that same chair for someone else.
For instance, in the time that it has taken me to write these 150 words, I have retrieved a laptop, a cell phone, a charger for both (after I asked him in the first place if he’d need it; “Nah, it’s cool”), a pillow for his foot, the television remotes, (I already mentioned the cereal and spoon fiasco), something to “entertain” him, and a brief boxer-bunching incident that I won’t elaborate on.
Boy, it’s good to have my brother home.
But as familial duties require my service (though I recently hired a lawyer to try to void this contract) all of these duties are expected of me. And because the “life of a writer” still counts as unemployment to my parents, I have plenty of spare time to “help Zachary.”
However, even through the thick of it, whether I’m rushing out of the bathroom, one contact halfway out of my eye because he needs the toilet and he can’t stand for longer than seven seconds, or I’m situating the blanket on him just right, so he can flip his feet out if they get too warm but also flip them back in if he gets too cold, I’m happy to help him.
Well, “happy” isn’t the right word. Maybe “obligated” or “anticipatory.” Because in the end, he hasn’t gone Christmas shopping yet and I expect some serious return action in the present giving this year.
Come on, baby, Daddy needs a new electronic keyboard!