My brother, often referred to here and elsewhere as Baby Brother despite his inching ever further into his thirties, is the youngest of my siblings and the only boy. He was also born nearly two months premature and was always small for his age. None of these things lent themselves to being taken terribly seriously--especially by his older sisters. We babied him, of course we did, it could hardly be helped--and in some ways we still do.
We may have created a monster--not just in him but also in ourselves. We consistently expect less of him than he's probably capable of giving and, in return, he gives less than he's capable of giving. He's the go-to guy for a good time--all his nieces and nephews will tell you so, but you don't get the feeling that he spends a whole lot of time contemplating the meaning of life.
Every once in a while, though, I get a glimpse of the deeper, more philosophical side of Baby Brother and I realize that he too struggles with the issues that try men's souls.
On a recent day trip, he came out of a convenience store bathroom and offered this observation: "You know, piss on a public toilet seat* is really one of the great dilemmas in life. You don't want to wipe it off, because it means touching someone else's pee, even indirectly, but you also don't want to leave it there and let the next person in line think you can't hit the bowl."
*"Piss on a public toilet seat" is the funniest phrase isn't it? It could be a directive, a milder form of F- You, or, as it's intended here, a very specific puddle somewhere. Either way, I'm pretty sure it belongs on a CD cover--not sure if it would make a better album title or band name, but you just know they'd line up to buy Piss On A Public Toilet Seat.
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