How many times my brother tried to kill me

I’m grateful for my siblings.

 

I bought my brother a “smoker,” aka a type of grill for a gift this past week. It was a combination birthday/Christmas gift. But really I just want someone to make a good brisket that I can enjoy. After much discussion on my best friend Jake’s couch, we reached the conclusion the best way to get a good brisket is for my brother to make it. He is an excellent cook.

 

I messaged him and he found a used smoker on Facebook. The agreement was I buy the smoker, he the pellets and meats. My brother has used it every day this week, making ribs, steak, chicken, pork and more.

 

Monday evening we enjoyed smoked pork shoulder that spent 11 hours cooking. It was the best pork I have ever had. It cost my brother $11 and fed four people.

 

This is not the only thing I enjoy about my siblings. I enjoy how real I can be. Namely, I can say whatever I want, in whatever tone of voice and what I say will never be taken the wrong way. At least not from Nathan. I love that about him. He has been a very good older brother, there when I need him and there to try and offer “brotherly advice” when he can. Every single day he is sending me updates on his life, what he is doing, working on, etc. I’m really grateful he does. I look forward to those updates. Nathan is down about 50lbs this year and about 2-3 times a week he is sending me photos of the scale. I am proud of him. He owns his own home, works very hard and has good, quality friends around him.

 

My brother had tourettes and ADHD as a kid. We shared a room together until I was 12. I used to get so excited to tattle about his swearing to my mom, not knowing that his yelling over and over like that was the tourettes. He grew out of one, but not the other. Nathan, when he is focused on something, really, really focuses on it. The new smoker, being an excellent example. I’m grateful for another opportunity to bond with him.

 

Growing up, Nathan only tried to kill me a couple times.

 

The first when he may or may not have put Legos in my water cup, which I choked on. Dad saved me when I ran down the stairs. Nathan had to write many “sentences” that night.

 

“I will not put Lego’s in Eli’s water.”

 

Other examples include:

 

“I will not throw things at Eli while he is trying to sleep.”

 

“I will not yell at Eli while he is trying to sleep.”

 

“I will not fart so badly and laugh so loudly…..”

 

Nathan used to eat bad food, beans, etc. and brag about how he would make the room smell that night when it was bedtime.

 

Dad likes to tell the story of the two of us arguing over whether planes drop cars out of them.

 

Other times we would argue through our evening prayers. Praying for the other to stop interrupting. I always quit interrupting first.

 

As children I would resort to bribing my brother to make airplanes out of Legos for me. He had a special talent.

 

Nathan was just a little too old for me to hang out with him and his friends. But that didn’t always stop me. (Nathan is five years older than I. He is 34 this year; I turn 29 in November.)

The other times Nathan tried to kill me included the time he almost shot me with an arrow, the times he put us in the ditch in his truck, both intentionally and unintentionally and finally when I was four years old and he put a lit firecracker down my butt crack. I spent that fourth of July laying on my tummy with burn cream on my butt.

 

It’s moments like this that give me a lifetime pass not to watch my attitude when speaking to my brother. (Not that I do have an attitude. But it’s nice to have someone I can unload about life to, who will only respond with, “Do you want some pork butt?”

 

Thank you for the pork butt, Nathan.

 

In cribbage this week, Dad got the best of me, winning 22-20, skunking me 4 times to my 3. Totals will be updated next week reflecting our scores this year.