Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Waking Paul Up

Why is it that I get such a sick pleasure from calling Paul's cell phone from work in the morning and letting it ring and ring and ring until the man comes on and tells me, "The wireless customer you are calling is unavailable..." or until Paul picks up, there is silence, then the call ends abruptly, something that can only mean my own brother hung up on me?

And why do I respond to this rude behavior by calling him again?

And why do I decide that, when he fails to answer his phone several times running, I should switch to the house phone and let that ring indefinitely until Paul drags himself out of bed, across the house, and over to the phone?

Because I am an older sister.

Why does Paul get to be lazy when I have to wake up so darn early every morning? It so is not fair.

Also, I do this because Mom is out of town, I am at work, and that means my little Darcy has only one source for her walks--Paul. And though I love my brother, I rank Darcy's comfort above his. This is because she is a dog and cannot care for herself. That means Paul has to step in.

But mostly it is because I am an older sister, and tormenting Paul is super-fun.

I did all this at 9:30 this morning, a respectable hour for starting one's day. And it was very enjoyable. I think I called Paul like five or six times...? Maybe more, before I got him on the line. And boy was he mad. He seemed like he would start swearing at me any moment, and I have no doubt he went right back to sleep.

This way, though, if Jerk Paul makes Darcy suffer, and if she has an accident which has never happened before, I can turn around to Paul and say: "You suck. Look at what you did to her! She was totally miserable to do this, and she's depressed now because she knows she did wrong and it is all because you are so lazy you can't take care of a dog let alone yourself! Next time: Listen To Your Sister!"

And then he will be even angrier than before, but he will know that I am right. And that is the most fun at all.

Please do not think less of me for this, I never tortured him as a child. We never hit each other, we never screamed or threw things...we were good, well-behaved children. Which means we have become scheming adults. It's always better to let kids get the resentment out of their systems before they get too old to throw stuffed animals, books, or micro-machines at each other.

I think we still have some micro-machines...

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