My brother, the man
/
Had a little conversation with my brother, Daniel, the other day. We were chatting along, calling each other names (as per our usual) and he mentioned the new car he just bought.
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
(He did)
He has joined the ranks of families everywhere who find their kids' car seats no longer fit in the backseat of their previously-spacious cars. He bought a minivan.
I proceeded to give him grief about such a choice (what are sisters for?) and he started to launch into the virtues of owning such a vehicle. How they were getting it fitted with a DVD player for the kids. How they will have room for the third car seat for the new baby in a few months. How he can now just basically hand all the pants in his closet over to his wife (as clearly she will be wearing the pants in their family).
He retorted with just how comfortable his van is to ride in. That, sure, he wasn't in favor of it at first, but now what with all the comfort.
I replied, "Yeah, well, moo-moos are comfortable, too, and you don't see me walking around town in one."
So, Daniel, enjoy your new Moo-Moo (as that is what I will forever call any car that you drive). And when you are driving to JC Penny for some must-have fall fashions, and you look down to realize you've chipped a nail while plugging in Veggie Tales for the children, and simultaneously you're choking up listening to your favorite Celine Dion CD, just relish in your comfort. For you are a man. A real man.
A man who gave up looking cool so his wife would be happy.
And that, my dear brother, makes you a better man than you will ever know. (But I will be forced to still make fun of you, sorry).
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
(He did)
He has joined the ranks of families everywhere who find their kids' car seats no longer fit in the backseat of their previously-spacious cars. He bought a minivan.
I proceeded to give him grief about such a choice (what are sisters for?) and he started to launch into the virtues of owning such a vehicle. How they were getting it fitted with a DVD player for the kids. How they will have room for the third car seat for the new baby in a few months. How he can now just basically hand all the pants in his closet over to his wife (as clearly she will be wearing the pants in their family).
He retorted with just how comfortable his van is to ride in. That, sure, he wasn't in favor of it at first, but now what with all the comfort.
I replied, "Yeah, well, moo-moos are comfortable, too, and you don't see me walking around town in one."
So, Daniel, enjoy your new Moo-Moo (as that is what I will forever call any car that you drive). And when you are driving to JC Penny for some must-have fall fashions, and you look down to realize you've chipped a nail while plugging in Veggie Tales for the children, and simultaneously you're choking up listening to your favorite Celine Dion CD, just relish in your comfort. For you are a man. A real man.
A man who gave up looking cool so his wife would be happy.
And that, my dear brother, makes you a better man than you will ever know. (But I will be forced to still make fun of you, sorry).
