Sounds Like Someone Needs A Little-Voice Transplant

I come from a large family, and we don’t get together very often. A table-full of us are gathered at a nephew’s wedding.

[Brother #4], who is not present, as it happens, is famous — notorious, actually — in our extended clan for being an adrenaline junkie with poor decision-making skills.

Seriously — about twenty years ago, as a result of a miscalculation on a bungee jump, he was featured on an episode of the Discovery Channel show called “Real Life Medical Miracles.” For his fortieth birthday, he told his wife he wanted to try cage boxing.

One of us is telling a long and complicated story about him, three dogs, and a skunk, and a niece is shaking her head in disbelief.

Me: “It’s true. You know that little voice that we all have in the back of our brains? The one that tells you not to do dumb stuff like stick a fork in the wall socket?”

Niece: “Are you saying Uncle [Brother #4] doesn’t listen to his little voice?”

Me: “I’m saying his little voice was dropped on its head as a child.”