A word on an October breakup:
Me: So will you carve my pumpkin?
The bro: Yeah.
Me: Into what?
The Bro: Something cool. Like a face. Or a guy getting kicked in the crotch.
On sickness:
Me: Remember when Mom used to get mad when we had a cough that lasted all night?*
The bro: Yeah. Remember when I had chronic cough because I smoked so much weed?**
Me: When? When you lived here?
The bro: When I lived in BYU approved housing.***
Me: Oh, you mean the chronic cough I assumed was something to do with your collapsed lung and I took you to the doctor and you told him you didn’t do drugs and gave you antibiotics for what I assumed was some sort of adult croup or whooping cough?
The bro: Yeah.
*Disclaimer: My mother was not mad at us as children, just as semi-adults who were too lazy to get up and take cough medicine.
**Disclaimer two: As far as we know, he no longer smokes weed.
***Note: He said this with a wicked smirk.
