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Brother In-Law

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We all have a family or some form of family. There’s someone in our lives that we love no matter what. As if we had no choice in the matter. Just like in the scene of every made for television movie where the parent says at the climatic ending, “I’ll love you no matter what!” You just automatically give it up for these people, which at times, can be hard to call family.

So where does “In-Law” factor into the equation? It’s long been the cliché or stereotype that the mother-in-law is the hated beast and biggest bitch in the universe. Likewise the father-in-law is always the disapproving, “you’re not good enough for my child” type. This may or may not be the case in your life. I’m sure the relationships and a character type for mother and father in-laws varies as much as the number of in-laws. It’s really just all about how you get along with them I suppose. So where does that leave brother in-laws? Where do they fall in the stereotype/cliché world?

I have a brother in-law; let me tell you about him. First of all we need a picture. Hard to imagine someone when you don’t know what they look like. Think of an apple, or better yet a caramel apple on a stick. Except this caramel apple has two sticks. Those are his legs. On top of the caramel apple let’s put a marshmallow. That’s his head. Now break off a couple of arms from an old He-Man action figure and stick them on the side of the caramel apple. There we go, my brother in-law, a six foot tall caramel apple on two sticks with a marshmallow head and He-Man arms.

What’s he like, because he sounds delicious? This has to be the next question. It’s hard to get a feel for someone if you don’t know anything about them. He likes to bully people and by bully people I mean make people squirm and scream. He’ll grab sensitive spots or pressure points on your body with his gorilla like hands and squeeze until you squeal like a pig. Then he laughs. He’s a redneck, know-it-all that’s an expert on everything. He’s not afraid to let you know how much a pansy, wussy, girly-man you are. “You don’t know how to rewire a breaker box? What are you, a homo?!” He’s ultra macho, the whole nine yards, drinks beer like water, dips tobacco and never spits, likes to abuse animals and small children and all women are mindless, lost, sex-droids that need reminding of their true purpose, (servitude). God forbid you should ever make him mad or cut him off in traffic, because the consequence is death. I’ve read about Roman emperors who were more compassionate than him. The whole family has resolved that the demise of my brother in-law will be the result of driving, if not in an accident, then the person that will road rage back with a pistol.

The worst part of it all is that I always have to call him for advice and help with the projects I’m forced to take on. Every time I call him it’s the same conversation. I tell him what happen, he’s laughs, I ask for help, he calls me derogatory names, I’m quiet, he calls me more names, I hang up and he comes over.

The best part of it all is that he’s my brother in-law. I’ve really come to like the guy over the years and would actually call him my friend regardless of the family tie between us. He may be rough around the edges, raw on the inside, too sharp to touch and quite possibly toxic, maybe even cancerous, but he’s brother in-law and I love him. This really makes him uncomfortable.

I always try to hug him when I see him so he freaks out a little.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

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Written by Ramblin' Rooster

November 27, 2008 at 5:04 am

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