I realize that I've written a lot about what I love about France. I've even written a little about what I miss, but not in detail. Months ago, my brother asked me to mention him in my blog. This one's for you, little bro.
I was pleasantly surprised to learn he even read this. You see, my brother's aloof. He comes and goes from the house. The only evidence of him being empty Zaxby's boxes and the television playing Sportscenter.
At Christmas, our ten-hour drive to Philadelphia is made somewhat bearable by my brother's obsession with Kid Cudi and Lil Wayne. The vulgar lyrics often lead to my dad cursing and wondering aloud, "Who's this Lil Wayne guy and why is he singing about gonorrhea? What is this trash?"
And sometimes my brother makes really stupid mistakes, but who doesn't? He's wrecked his car. He's dropped his laptop in the bathroom (okay, that was stupid.), and he's washed his cellphone in the laundry like three or four times. He's in a fraternity so he can come off as a douche. In fact, it was only right that I bought him a flask engraved DOUCHEBAG for Christmas. I snuck it under the tree and when my dad saw it he asked, "You're gonna put Diet Coke in that right?" Well, we're going to the Bahamas this summer where we're both be 18. Maybe we can split a pack a beer.