The other night, Chris sent me this ecard:
And it's exactly right and got me to thinking about how I have this huge double standard over who can talk sh*t about my brothers. I know that they are the older siblings, and they get all the fun of picking on me, but I am completely and utterly protective over them.
|These are my peeps. Don't #*@$ with them.|
But with my brothers, this gets taken to a whole new level. No one better ever talk sh*t about my brothers. Ever. The few times in my life when I have feared that I may actually punch someone have been when someone has crossed one of the boys. I know that they can take care of themselves, but I much rather "take care" of someone who messes with them.
|How I feel when you cross my bros.|
(Sitting at dinner with random friend.)
Me: So (brother) is being a real assface lately.
Me: (looks up slowly from huge plate of cheese fries) Did you just agree that my brother is an assface?? I. Will. CUT. You.
(On the phone with random friend.)
Me: I just don't understand how (brother) can do a douchebag thing like that.
Friend: Yeah, well, I remember that one time he did that other douchebag-y thing.
Me: Yeah. Well, no one asked you.
(hangs up phone in a rage)
You see, it's a complete double standard, but it's not something I'm ever going to change or lighten up on. I get to say what I think about my brothers, and no one is allowed to say a single negative word or even agree with me. If you find yourself getting caught in one of these situations, it's best to just avert your eyes and wait for me to finish, then quickly change the subject. I cannot be held accountable for my actions when protecting my bros.
|They are mean to me. I will punch you if you're mean to them.|
So, these boys are my boys, and they always will be. If I have to throw a punch, defend their actions, or tell you how wrong you are when you agree that they're assfaces, I will. Forever. So don't cross them, mother effers, or you will have ME to deal with. Happy National Freaking Brothers' Week.