Mother may I...

kick my brother's ass?

Here's the thing about my brother: he just got off nearly three years of not being allowed to drink alcohol or (obviously) consume any sort of illicit anything. He had to blow into a breathalizer every time he started his car. He even wore a strap on his angle that detects alcohol in your sweat. If you don't know my brother very well, all I can tell you is that my brother used to party hard. I must say he handled this government babysitting remarkably well, and I thought maybe he'd see a new outlook on life that didn't revolve around drunken carousing in Soulard or any of the many, many bars where he knows the bartenders by name. At the very least, maybe he'd see the benefit of moderation and recognize that getting careless with the things and people you love can have devastating consequences.

Recently, he officially ended his relationship with his on/off girlfriend who is not the peachiest of peaches, and I agree they probably shouldn't be together. Recently, he completed his term of forced sobriety. What do you get when you squash these two major events within weeks of one another? Retro J., the J. that gets arrested.

To be fair, he didn't get arrested. He called me last night and I was in a noisy place so I didn't answer. I assumed he was double-checking that we were still meeting at 9:00am for Mother's Day brunch at Mokabe's. (Yeah, it's early, and it was my idea, but if you don't there early you don't get a table.) So I called J. back late last night and MY COUSIN answered the phone. My cousin is my age and very cute and friendly. When she first came into the family (through marriage at age 11) I thought it was awesome to have a female cousin my age that rode horses and played the flute like I did, and she thought my hair was perfect so naturally I took to her. Now her and my brother are friends. I barely talked to my cousin at Easter; she was too busy gossiping with J. about all the partying, about her recent breakup, and how J.'s girlfriend is crazy and he should end it. Though I still think she's nice, I have nothing in common with her. She and her friends enjoy hanging out in bars in downtown Clayton because that's where they think they're going to meet rich men. Her and J. have very similar paces of life. That doesn't mean they should be pacing together!

A few years ago my brother told me that he thinks she's hot.

Um.

So she answered his phone, laughing hysterically. I recognized her laugh and said "Cousin?" (no, I really said her name) and told her who was calling and that just sent her into another fit of laughter. I didn't even bother trying to talk to her, I just asked her to put my brother back on the phone. "Nine o'clock, J," I said, and I hung up. Had I not, he would have heard a very mean stream of buzz-harshing words come out of my mouth.

Because, really. I know people hang out with their cousins. Am I crazy to think that it's just not okay for cousins of the opposite sex to be getting drunk together? Am I paranoid because he said she was hot? I don't honestly think that they'd do anything. I'm a benefit-of-doubt kind of person. That wasn't the first time they've hung out - they actually have a mutual friend so it makes it a little less weird, but I'm sure that mutual friend was not in attendance last night. What I'll keep telling myself is that he must want her to introduce him to her hot friends.

This morning, how ever, I felt the sort of rage towards my brother that I used to feel when he told me I was fatter than our mother. At 4:07am, my brother sent me this text message: 9 am mokabes right ? Ill b there right .

By 9:30am, we had all eaten brunch without my brother. Gifts had been opened, heaps of bacon chewed, strawberry orange juice savored, all without my brother.

"If I had my cell phone, I'd call him and let him have it," I said to everyone.
"I have my cell phone!" chirped my mom. But she is more diplomatic than I am, and I also believe she enjoys a good guilt trip every once in awhile, and the mother of all mother guilt trips obviously should occur on Mother's Day.

"Hellloooo. This is your mooother. Where arrrrre you?" Her perfect sing-songy tone was absolutely saturated with disappointed anger. Oh, and she was talking to his voicemail. He called back a few minutes later and didn't show up for another twenty-five minutes, nevermind the fact that the coffeehouse is less than 2 minutes from his apartment.

I'll admit it - I could barely look at him. He knew he fucked up, and I was glad he knew it, and I wanted to make sure he knew that I was not okay with it. It wasn't even that I wanted to side with my mother and appear the better and more considerate child. I was honestly enraged. Had he not added that sarcastic little right onto the end of Ill be there in his cute little text message I might have made eye contact or smiled at him once. He was inexplicably taunting me, like oh shit! It's 4am and I have get up in 5 hours! Isn't this a rockstar dilemma! For better or worse, your mother deserves more respect than anyone you know. Showing up to Mother's Day brunch nearly an hour late smelling like alcohol with blood shot eyes and basically refusing to eat is about as disrespectful as it gets.

And you could hear my heart break when my mom said this after my brother passed her a card and got up to get coffee:

"He probably bought this on the way here."

But it's okay. Instead of throwing a fit and because I like to throw grenades, my parents and my aunt now know that J. and our cousin have been hanging out, and there were looks of disapproval aplenty. Let the chips fall, every last one of 'em.