So, I posted what I thought was a fun threadto describe how I was handling my brother’s & nephew’s awkward gift requests for Christmas. Just fun, playful, no harm done. In fact, donating money to charity, so it’s win-win. But then my **other **brother, the younger one with the stick up his ass got involved.
He heard about my nephew’s request for “a hooker” for Christmas. If you read the thread above, you know that my solution is to get him a latch hook rug kit. With a latch hook rug tool. A hooker. Get it? Anyway, I went to the other brother’s house for Thanksgiving. Let’s call him Stick-up-his-ass, SUHA. After a really lovely evening with the family he & his wife sit me down to talk about “the situation.” They’re invited for Christmas as is the rest of the family. SUHA asks me when my nephew is going to open his “gift.” Because SUHA wants to make sure that it isn’t done in his presence or in that of his 13-year-old daughter. Because of the implication, you know. We don’t want to get into that discussion with her.
WTF, bro! It’s a JOKE. You DO know what a joke is, right?!? Fuck you! It’s none of your business what I give as a joke. It’s not immoral or illegal. It’s a fucking joke. Get over it! Cripes, that just makes me want to see it opened in front of your and your daughter all the more!
Your daughter is the oddest, most immature 13 year old I’ve ever seen. You took her out of school for reasons unknown, and now you home school her, which has only served to isolate her further and fuck her up even more! She’s fucking 13 years old and cries at the drop of a hat, and you pander to it! She has even fewer social skills than you, if that’s even possible, and she has no friends. It’s no wonder! She spends every day with Mommy, has to ask Mommy if she can wipe her own ass, and even her only hobby is spent 100% with Mommy. You’re raising one fucked up little girl.
And then you have the nerve to ask to bring your dogs for Christmas. I don’t have a problem with your dogs, but if you’re visiting me or our mother, don’t expect us to cater to your every whim. We have cats. That’s right, cats. You know, those cute, furry, purry animals that you USED TO like until you got married? Your wife is a dog-person, so suddenly you forget that you had a sliver of personality once, and you melded with her. Don’t get me wrong, I actually like her, but she’s one person and you’re a completely separate person, which you seem to have forgotten. Anyway, sure, you can bring your dogs. Both Mom & I have nice backyards and garages for them. I know you don’t want to leave them at home because your new “puppy” tears up and chews up everything he can get his teeth on. And you don’t want to pay for a kennel. Well, I don’t fucking want them in MY house to do the same! You had the nerve to ask if your mother & I can keep our cats together so you can keep your dogs at the other one’s house just blocks away. Our cats don’t get along. We might have worked something out, but YOU need to have the fucking dogs with you all the time. You’re staying with our mother and need the dogs there and the cats at my house. But dinner is at my house, so you want me to pack up the two cats (who are at each other’s throats) and all of their shit and shuttle it to Mom’s house so you can bring your dogs with you to dinner. Not in the backyard, not in the garage, but in the house. This is SoCal, bro, they’ll survive outside. Really. And they can chew & tear on anything they find out there! BTW, your house smells like dog. All the time. And everything is covered in dog hair. I do not want the same for my house.
Fuck you, bro. Just stay home for Christmas. I don’t need you. But Mom does, and I’m trying to keep the family peace. We may not have many family holidays together left. Just remember that it’s NOT all about you.