My younger brother was seven years old at the time, and I was stuck with him at the mall. We were at the music store, and I was looking at the cassette singles on the wall (circa 1989-1990-ish), and he was trying to show off how long he could hold his breath.

He kept tugging my arm in his show-off attempts, but I kept ignoring him, over and over again.

Finally, he collapsed INTO the wall of cassettes, knocking almost all of them off the wall.

So, he’s passed out on the floor, and I’m embarrassed because I’m twelve years old. So, I’m dragging his body out of the store while all the adults look at me like I’m a horrible person. I never asked if he was okay; I just verbally assailed him for being stupid as I was trying to revive him.

He was okay, as best as I could tell.

My older brother is what you would consider an adrenaline junkie. He’s jumped off of planes, bridges, etc. He’s jumped out of a helicopter to start a ski descent. He’s crazy in my opinion, but he’s happiest in those kinds of environments, so each to their own. 

My mom and brother are in the kitchen, talking about something boring.

Older Brother: “…so that’s why I think it’s a good investment. All my friends agree.”

Mom: “Hmph! So you do whatever your friends do, huh? If they all jumped off a cliff, would you jump after them?”

Older Brother: “Uh, already have, Mom.”

Related:
Taking The High Ground

I’m out for the day with my twin brother and his eldest daughter (who’s three at the time). We go into a coffee shop to pick up some lunch, and since I’m visiting my niece, I decide to pay. As I go to the counter, the lady behind it says:

Counter Lady: “Well, no need to ask about your relationship; you’re clearly his dad.”

Awkward. I gently correct her.

Me: “No, actually, I’m his brother.”

After all, there can be wide gaps between siblings. My brother adds, cheerfully:

Brother: “His twin brother.”

Hopefully, she took it in good humour.

This is from when my heavily pregnant older sister was living with my mum and me. It is just my sister and me at the moment. I hear a loud non-human noise from the kitchen, coupled with a loud, very human noise, so I leg it down the stairs, worried for the heavily preggers lady.

I come to the kitchen to see an open four-litre milk bottle on the floor, milk on the floor, my sister sobbing whilst trying in vain to reach said bottle. My sister is mostly unintelligible whilst she sobsplains what has happened, but I get the general gist.

She wanted a tea, the milk slipped from her grip and ended up on the floor, and she then couldn’t get the milk, and now she’s wasting milk, and there’s a mess. 

Whilst picking up the milk and whilst she’s still sobbing, I realise something that tickles me, and I giggle.

Sister: “DONT LAUGH AT ME! IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

Me: “Sorry, but you’re crying over spilt milk.”

Pause, she starts laugh-crying.

Sister: “Okay, so it is funny. But still!”

I recently moved into a fairly large apartment in a downtown area. My sister comes to visit with my two young nieces, who have spent their entire lives in suburbia, surrounded by large houses.

As I give them a tour, they have a lot of questions.

Niece #1: “Where are the stairs?”

Me: “There aren’t any.”

Niece #2: “How do you get upstairs?”

Me: “There is no upstairs.”

Niece #2: “Oh.”

A little later…

Niece #1: “Where’s your backyard?”

Me: “I don’t have one.”

Niece #1: “Where do you play outside?”

Me: “There’s a park a few blocks away.”

The girls exchange a confused look. A few minutes later, after inspecting every room in the apartment…

Niece #1: “Uncle… are you poor?”

Me: “No, sweetheart.”

Niece #1: “Then where’s the rest of your house?”

We adults all burst out laughing.

Sister: “One day I’ll be able to explain to them that the rent for this apartment is about twice the mortgage payment on our house.”

Me: “Hopefully one day someone will be able to explain it in a way that makes sense to me!”