Me and my little brother fight a lot.

And I mean, a /lot/.

We don't fight like tooth-and-nail kind of fighting. We don't have screaming matches. We have quiet spiteful fencing match of sharp biting words, which probably hurts more than a shouting match.

Sometimes I yell if I'm really worked up, but not really full out yelling. More like a stronger voice.

I got really pissed off at my brother yesterday because he ate nearly all the brownie I made.

I made an entire pan, though a small pan (8x8"). I made it to take to Colleen's. I didn't take all of it, obviously. I just put about a row and a half on a plate. But before I left he asked:

"What're you making?"

"Brownies to take to Colleen's."

"Can I have some?"

"No, you can't."

And then he off and eats nearly the entire thing when I was gone. Mom had some, but knowing her, she wouldn't have eaten a whole lot. She never does.

I was really, really pissed off.

My dad didn't have any, because he didn't know where it had came from (though he was standing in the kitchen nearly the entire time I was cooking. My father is a little daft.).

He is such a fucking greedy bastard. It really pisses me off, especially after telling him specifically he couldn't have any.

I think that would probably piss you off, too.

I was looking forward to nibbling at it that night, then giving the rest to the family, but I come home and there's one piece left. One! And it was really good triple chocolate-and-coffee brownie. Best brownies I've ever made.

*fret*

Ah well. He'll be gone soon, and so will I. Maybe he'll learn. Maybe he won't. Either way, life goes on and I don't have to associate with him if I don't want to.

.

Rosie.

Before&After