Oh, Brother Poem by anais vionet

(tales from the viral lock-down)

Brice (my brother)is cutting through what smells like a stack of cinnamon french toast.
My stomach growls at the aroma like a hunting cat. I jump out of bed, grab my robe and rush excitedly to the kitchen.
I see the pan in the sink.
gasp "You didn't MAKE me any! ! ? " I accuse, in indignant shock.
Brice, looking up, "JESUS, get on some fu-kin' clothes! "
He waves his arms like he's fighting a flock of birds.
I look down, "GOD, I AM wearing clothes, you PERV! - and a bathrobe"
"Who says THAT'S a bathrobe? ? " He says, sarcastically.
Me: "Kiki Montparnasse! ", I say, indignantly.
My mom enters to fill her coffee cup.
Brice: "Will you please tell YOUR DAUGHTER to get on some clothes? "
My mom inspects me and I twirl for my audience.
"That IS a little sheer", she pronounces.
"ARGH! , FINE, " I say, before stomping off to change.
I start to fume."HE CAN GO ALL OVER IN BOXER SHORTS BUT I CAN'T WEAR A BATHROBE? ! ! "
"And HE didn't make EXTRA TOAST", I yell back in pointed accusation.
"Get to work, " (on more toast)I hear her tell him, just before I slam my door.

another day…

My brother Brice is fighting with his girl-friend on the phone.
Of course, I'm only hearing 1/2 the conversation - but he sounds like a jerk.
Me: "apologize, " I silently, slowly, exaggeratedly mouth
Brice: "fu-kovv, " he mouths back, silently
Me: "I'm your sister, " I say, "I get to boss you around, besides, I KNOW what's BEST"
A minute later - He actually apologizes! ! ! And they make up.
(I dance around the room like Rocky)