Yesterday was my little brother's birthday. He just turned 22. He lives with his girlfriend and her son and their dog. It's weird when your little brother grows up into a normal person. Here is a little family anecdote in his honour. Happy birthday, bro.
I remember one time when my family was all out front of our house doing gardening or some other "character building" manual labour. I'm going to say my brother was about 4 or 5. I grew up sort of out in the middle of the boonies. The front lawn is very long. The road is over 100m away from the house.
So we're all out working in the front yard and this pickup truck comes to a screeching halt in front of the house. A woman comes tumbling out the passenger seat, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. The truck roars off, the woman yelling all the while.
We're all standing there watching, kind of flabbergasted. She starts walking down the road. The truck comes hurtling back and stops again right next to her. She screams some more and then gets in and then the truck pulls away.
We stand there again, utterly dumbfounded, staring out at the road for a little while.
Finally, my little brother breaks the silence: "Mom. She called him an apple."
Somehow, mom kept a mostly straight face and said, "That's okay, honey, I call your dad an apple all the time."