(My brother and I take a two-day motorcycle course over the summer. It is a state-certified program meant to teach the practical skills needed to ride in a safe environment. My brother has always been protective, but in the strange older-brother kind of way. He says that it’s okay if I drop the bike or fall over; that people will only laugh a little. This happens when we are taking a break the second day. I am heading one way, and my brother the opposite way.)

Instructor: “Uh, [My Name]? Your brother isn’t moving.”

(I look, and sure enough he’s tripped over a small, hanging chain and is lying on his back on the ground.)

Me: “You okay?” *he nods* “You need a hand?” *he shakes his head* “You just want to lay there for a second?” *a nod* “How’s your pride?”

Brother: “Kind of hurts.”

(He managed to crack the visor on the helmet he was carrying, and scraped up his elbow. He was the only one all weekend to need any type of bandages. I stayed upright the whole time. He still hasn’t lived it down.)

(My brother is staying with me until he finds a place of his own. I didn’t want to let him, but my parents wouldn’t get off my back. He’s messy and immature. I’m younger than he is.)

Me: “Hey, [Brother], have you seen my laptop? “

Brother: “Yeah, but its broken.”

Me: “How? I’ve only had it for like a month. “

Brother: “I spilled soda on it. “

Me: “I had my class projects on it! “

Brother: “Relax. Don’t you have some sort of backup? “

Me: “Yes, but that doesn’t excuse you ruining a birthday present. You owe me a new one. “

Brother: “I think [Girlfriend] has one she can give you. “

Me: “I am not accepting anything from that pot-smoking bimbo!”

Brother: “She’s not a bimbo! “

Me: “Her tattoo says otherwise.”

Brother: “Can’t you flirt with one of your smarta** classmates to get it fixed?”

Me: “You’re an idiot.”

(I kicked him out a week later after he, his girlfriend, and their entourage destroyed the living room by having a party, almost set fire to the kitchen, and did drugs in my apartment while I was at school. I always bring up that story when Mom and Dad ask me to help him.)

(My little sister moves in with me so she can attend a physician’s assistant program. During a warm day in October, we are chatting in the kitchen.)

Sister: “I think I should have the upper extremities covered today.”

Me: “You should be fine with that tank top. It’s going up to 75 degrees.”

Sister: “I was talking about studying for my exam.”

Me: “I was talking about the weather and how you are dressed.”

(I’m waiting in line for the cashier when a woman walks up behind me with two boys. They’re junior-high-aged and alike as two peas in a pod.)

Woman: “[Boy #1], you keep our place in line while I take [Boy #2] over to look at the braces.”

(She walks off with the other lad.)

Me: “So, is it fun being a twin?”

Boy #1: *grinning* “We aren’t twins.”

Me: “…”

Boy #1: *grinning even more hugely* “We’re triplets!“

(My older sister will start applying for university next year, so our family takes a summer road trip to visit a few campuses. She’s laid back and low-energy and mostly sees school as a necessity, while our engineer dad has always been that one nerd who genuinely loved everything about school, including studying, and can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t. We’ve just sat through a lengthy, dry math seminar at a focused math-and-science college. Dad comes out energized and excited. My sister comes out mentally exhausted and cranky.)

Dad: *looking around eagerly for tour options* “So, what are we going to do now—”

Sister: “NOW… we are going to get coffee.”

Dad: “Okay, and then—”

Sister: “AND THEN… we are going to drink the coffee.”

(He finally got the hint that she needed a break. I don’t think she’ll be applying to that place.)