Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was bad, but it was a little astonishing.
My 9 month old baby brother got more presents then my dad and I did combined.:eek: :eek:
Sure he’s cute and adorable and all of that, but c’mon.
Of course he managed to break one of them within 15 minutes, so that’s par for the course.*
The good was getting a phone call from my older brother. My dad answered the phone, and then handed it to me.
I put the phone to my ear and said, “Hello?”
I heard the intake of a breath, then silence… then my brother said, “My hatred for you burns with the fire of ten thousand suns.”
I said, “I take it that Teddy is enjoying his gift from me.”
This was verified by the sudden sound in the background of cymbals crashing and a drum being beaten.
I said, “Hey, it’s a tradition. It’s not my fault that you’re the only one right now who has kids. Wait a minute, maybe it’s partly my fault. anyhoo, Merry Christmas.”
There is nothing that can give you such malificent pleasure as giving your 4 year old nephew a drum and cymbal for Christmas.
/Insert evil laugh of your choice here/
*My baby brother is a 35 pound Irish Soft Coated Wheaten terrier named Harry Muldoon.