Brother's visits bring laughter

Some people bring out the best in me. Other people bring out the worst in me. My baby brother David brings out the kid in me. Or I should say he brings out the brat in me. I do the same for him.
Both of my brothers came up last weekend to attend the annual Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor show. Michael and his girlfriend, Diana, got to the house first. They wanted to check out some of the garage sales while we waited on David to arrive. Diana found something she wanted at a sale just a block away and by the time we got back to the house, David was there.
We visited for awhile and then went to lunch. After lunch they offered to take me back home before they went out to the show. Like a fool, I declined.
For the record, tractors don’t appeal to me. The only things I like about antiques are the memories they evoke. Seeing things we used while I was growing up that are now classified as antiques make me feel old. I am not a fan of second-hand anything as I had enough of that while I was little. I also don’t like wandering around in the blazing heat looking at stuff I have no interest in.
So why on earth did I decline their offer to take me home? Simple. I enjoy their company. I like Diana’s enthusiasm when she finds something to add to her collection of NASCAR memorabilia. I like watching Michael’s eyes light up when he spots an old tractor he covets. But best of all, I like how David makes me laugh.
We shared a can of pop, passing it back and forth while admonishing each other not to drool in it. Michael wisely walked ahead of us and kept mostly out of reach of our silliness. We bought cups of shaved ice, which David flicked at me. I dropped ice down his back. He accused me of spitting on him and called his wife to tell on me. We teased and laughed all afternoon.
By the time we left for home, I was so hot I thought I was going to be sick. Yet, I was happy. I had not laughed that much since the last time we got together.
The next day we all met at our mother’s house to celebrate her 84th birthday. David had brought his 16-year-old son, Jadyn, with him. At one point Jadyn was warned to behave because if he didn’t, he might turn out to be like me. We giggled and teased each other all afternoon, including our mother in the fun.
The weekend was typical of every time we get together. David makes me laugh. He can relate a story from work or talk about his son; it really doesn’t matter. Whatever story he tells is bound to be funny. Michael can be funny, too but he tends to calm me down rather than make me giggle.
And when David and I get together we act like little kids. We taunt and tease, we mess each other’s hair and point out the grey ones. We pinch and shove and do anything to get on the other one’s nerves. One would almost think that we were escapees from somewhere. I can’t imagine what people think about middle-aged people acting like brats.
We have fun. I would rather act like a little kid than a morose old bat. I am a grouch enough of the time.
Everyday life is filled with hassles that get on my nerves. Something as simple as a series of pointless safety seals is enough to put a frown on my face. If safety seals actually made anything safer, I might not object as much.
When I start the day by getting stung by a wasp, like I did yesterday, it will negate any potential joy I may feel. So if I get a chance to laugh and be a kid, I can’t bear to pass it up. If I can also drop ice down my brother’s shirt, that is just the icing on the cake.
We may act like brats when we’re together, but we’re happy brats. I can’t wait until we get together again.[[In-content Ad]]