He didn't let me pay on the count of me being born and all on this day. I wasn't up for arguing or wrestling or any of that. I know that my brother can easily best me when it comes to that kinda stuff. Growing up, we had one bathroom. Often when I'd have to go an use it, my brother would be in there, doing whatever it is that teenagers do in the bathrooom for extended periods of time. Combing his permed mullet, I think. I would bang on the door, hard, trying to get him to let me in because I had to go so bad and it was about to come out in my pants. He'd say something like, "Oh yeah, how bad do you have to go?" I'd tell him soooooo bad. He'd then open the door, sweep my legs out from under me so I was on my back and seeing stars from hitting my head on the floor and then he proceed to either step on my stomach or tickle me until he made the pee pee dribble out of me. If he could divine that I had to go number two he would grab my legs and kick me in the butt, thus giving me a reason to wait until later to use the facilities. All this to say, I thought it wise to allow him to pay for the meal.
I thanked him for the grub and gave him a hug. As I turned to get in my car he handed me an envelope with my name on it. He said it was my instructions for where I was going next and that I should call Janell when I get there.
