My brother has my power drill. He’s had it all summer, and I want it back. I told him to bring it to me but, so far, nothing.
I am holding hostage the boots he left at my house recently. Such nice sturdy boots. I will exchange them for the drill.
I told him I have his stuff and I’ll wait him out. He laughed. We’ve met before to exchange stuff. With a knowing smile he always has an excuse for why the power drill is not with him. Now it’s become a power struggle, a test of wills. I must be cunning. I must be a step ahead of him to win this standoff. (I told Daddy, and now my brother will be in trouble.)
Sibling relationships can be complicated. The irony is that my brother and I, both 30-somethings, have never gotten along better.
In talking to “onlies”, what I call those individuals without siblings, I am often in utter wonder at their lives. I think they’ve effectively cut out at least 50 percent of the drama in a normal human life.