McLaughlin
Jul 25, 2008, 12:57 AM
Here's to you, Trevor! You're the driving force behind most of my frustration at the moment, and I need to vent.
My brother. How do I even start this? The spawn of Satan? Not quite strong enough...
He's probably the most inconsiderate person I've met. Ever. And I get the privilege of "living" with him, though "tolerating his existence" may be a more suitable way of phrasing my relationship with him.
He's an idiot, first and foremost. He's currently attending summer school for Grade 10 Math and Science. Tomorrow happens to be his last day, which means he has exams. He just went to sleep now (currently 1:15 AM). This may lead one to believing he's been up studying. You would be wrong. He's been up playing Ace Combat 6 and CoD4. While both are fine games, I suspect the amount of mathematics and science involved in playing them is limited, and thus, not a great study aid.
Now, when in summer school, you'd think he'd try to do whatever he has to to pass, considering failing twice in one year is pretty pathetic. Further pressure to study comes from the fact that he's STILL failing math as of last week, when he finally gave my mom his report card thing.
Mom: You're failing AGAIN!?
Him: It's because of this one stupid assignment I didn't hand in because she never told us to.
Mom: Well then how did everyone else know to hand it in?
Him: I dunno, but it shouldn't be hurting my mark that bad.
Me: How many assignments have you had to hand in?
Him: Two.
Me: Well, I would think that not handing in 50%'s worth of your mark might have a bit of an impact. Maybe that's why you're failing.
Apparently, him being in summer school translates into me doing all his homework. He asks my mom for help, she tells me to do it, I tell her he needs to learn it himself, and then I get punished until I do it. Awesome. So I go up there and try to explain things to him. It's like trying to teach a French person English while instructing them in German. So, he yells at my mom for a bit because he doesn't understand something, and then I get dragged back upstairs and essentially do his homework verbally for him. Every night.
Speaking of yelling, he does that a lot. When he gets home, he yells. When he needs my mom for something, he yells. When he needs me, he yells. When I don't hear him because I'm deaf in my right ear and my headset is on, he yells louder, and louder, until my mom comes downstairs and yells at me for ignoring him. When anyone asks him to do something, he yells, and then I end up doing it.
He also appears to be under the impression that anything he sees is his. My clothes, my games, my computer, my iPod, my shoes, my bike, my wallet, whatever. When I ask for that stuff back, he yells. "You aren't using it," is usually what I get as an argument.
Why he even needs my iPod or my computer is beyond me, when he has both of those. The latter of which I'm also fixing. When he breaks it, he yells. When I tell him to fix it himself, he yells, then my mom yells, then I get punished until I do it (seeing a pattern yet?). This usually results in me wasting my day on the phone with tech support because he's managed to corrupt part of his operating system.
Other than his computer, he has really good luck with most of his stuff, which is bewildering since he treats his stuff like it's bulletproof. It's really frustrating since I do the best I can to take care of my stuff and it still breaks.
His friends. They're loud, they're obnoxious, and they're ALWAYS hungry. They're ALWAYS here, and never at their houses. This leads to having NO food in the house. Ever. This costs my mom a fortune, and by extension, me a fortune, because I help pay for things, unlike him.
One thing that REALLY irks me is that he never changes the fucking milk bag. Yeah yeah, lolCanada. Whatever. He empties the entire liter bag in thirty seconds and then just leaves the jug on the counter. Then I change it and before I even put the damn thing back in the fridge he's ripped it out of my hands and emptied it again. On the off chance he doesn't finish it, he leaves it out anyways. Sour milk. Awesome.
Every day there's something that needs to be done while my mom's at work. Usually, she tells me to do some stuff and him to do some stuff. What ends up happening is I'll do my chores, he'll say he did his, she'll come home and notice he didn't, and then flip out. This almost always end up in a yelling competition between them, and then he'll leave the house to go to a friend's (and then bring them back), and them I'm left to do everything he didn't, and deal with my infuriated mother. Oh joy.
Most of the chores are a direct result of his inability to put anything where it's supposed to be. When he takes a shower, he soaks the entire bathroom, leaves all his clothes in the corner behind the door (making it difficult to open), and he uses a new towel EVERY TIME. When he eats, all the (whatever's left of it) food is left out, all the dishes are left out, and he's usually made a gigantic mess of whatever he ate. When he does stuff outside he leaves all his equipment in the middle of the road (literally and figuratively). On the off chance he actually takes my dog out, he never cleans off his feet, and since we live in a developing area there's mud everywhere, the carpet now included.
On top of all this, my mom spoils him. 300 bucks for school sports (per sport, and he does basketball and volleyball)? No problem. 150 dollars for new shoes because he wrecked his and I hid mine, sure thing. $10.00 a day for a lunch at school because you never make your own? Alright, even though it should only cost five dollars.
All in all, I'd like to say I hate him.
I can't though, because I don't know any words strong enough to describe my feelings for him. Slowly, but surely, he's whittling away my sanity, and I don't have much left.
He's sixteen, by the way.
EDIT: Jeez, that's a bit bigger than I thought it was going to be.
My brother. How do I even start this? The spawn of Satan? Not quite strong enough...
He's probably the most inconsiderate person I've met. Ever. And I get the privilege of "living" with him, though "tolerating his existence" may be a more suitable way of phrasing my relationship with him.
He's an idiot, first and foremost. He's currently attending summer school for Grade 10 Math and Science. Tomorrow happens to be his last day, which means he has exams. He just went to sleep now (currently 1:15 AM). This may lead one to believing he's been up studying. You would be wrong. He's been up playing Ace Combat 6 and CoD4. While both are fine games, I suspect the amount of mathematics and science involved in playing them is limited, and thus, not a great study aid.
Now, when in summer school, you'd think he'd try to do whatever he has to to pass, considering failing twice in one year is pretty pathetic. Further pressure to study comes from the fact that he's STILL failing math as of last week, when he finally gave my mom his report card thing.
Mom: You're failing AGAIN!?
Him: It's because of this one stupid assignment I didn't hand in because she never told us to.
Mom: Well then how did everyone else know to hand it in?
Him: I dunno, but it shouldn't be hurting my mark that bad.
Me: How many assignments have you had to hand in?
Him: Two.
Me: Well, I would think that not handing in 50%'s worth of your mark might have a bit of an impact. Maybe that's why you're failing.
Apparently, him being in summer school translates into me doing all his homework. He asks my mom for help, she tells me to do it, I tell her he needs to learn it himself, and then I get punished until I do it. Awesome. So I go up there and try to explain things to him. It's like trying to teach a French person English while instructing them in German. So, he yells at my mom for a bit because he doesn't understand something, and then I get dragged back upstairs and essentially do his homework verbally for him. Every night.
Speaking of yelling, he does that a lot. When he gets home, he yells. When he needs my mom for something, he yells. When he needs me, he yells. When I don't hear him because I'm deaf in my right ear and my headset is on, he yells louder, and louder, until my mom comes downstairs and yells at me for ignoring him. When anyone asks him to do something, he yells, and then I end up doing it.
He also appears to be under the impression that anything he sees is his. My clothes, my games, my computer, my iPod, my shoes, my bike, my wallet, whatever. When I ask for that stuff back, he yells. "You aren't using it," is usually what I get as an argument.
Why he even needs my iPod or my computer is beyond me, when he has both of those. The latter of which I'm also fixing. When he breaks it, he yells. When I tell him to fix it himself, he yells, then my mom yells, then I get punished until I do it (seeing a pattern yet?). This usually results in me wasting my day on the phone with tech support because he's managed to corrupt part of his operating system.
Other than his computer, he has really good luck with most of his stuff, which is bewildering since he treats his stuff like it's bulletproof. It's really frustrating since I do the best I can to take care of my stuff and it still breaks.
His friends. They're loud, they're obnoxious, and they're ALWAYS hungry. They're ALWAYS here, and never at their houses. This leads to having NO food in the house. Ever. This costs my mom a fortune, and by extension, me a fortune, because I help pay for things, unlike him.
One thing that REALLY irks me is that he never changes the fucking milk bag. Yeah yeah, lolCanada. Whatever. He empties the entire liter bag in thirty seconds and then just leaves the jug on the counter. Then I change it and before I even put the damn thing back in the fridge he's ripped it out of my hands and emptied it again. On the off chance he doesn't finish it, he leaves it out anyways. Sour milk. Awesome.
Every day there's something that needs to be done while my mom's at work. Usually, she tells me to do some stuff and him to do some stuff. What ends up happening is I'll do my chores, he'll say he did his, she'll come home and notice he didn't, and then flip out. This almost always end up in a yelling competition between them, and then he'll leave the house to go to a friend's (and then bring them back), and them I'm left to do everything he didn't, and deal with my infuriated mother. Oh joy.
Most of the chores are a direct result of his inability to put anything where it's supposed to be. When he takes a shower, he soaks the entire bathroom, leaves all his clothes in the corner behind the door (making it difficult to open), and he uses a new towel EVERY TIME. When he eats, all the (whatever's left of it) food is left out, all the dishes are left out, and he's usually made a gigantic mess of whatever he ate. When he does stuff outside he leaves all his equipment in the middle of the road (literally and figuratively). On the off chance he actually takes my dog out, he never cleans off his feet, and since we live in a developing area there's mud everywhere, the carpet now included.
On top of all this, my mom spoils him. 300 bucks for school sports (per sport, and he does basketball and volleyball)? No problem. 150 dollars for new shoes because he wrecked his and I hid mine, sure thing. $10.00 a day for a lunch at school because you never make your own? Alright, even though it should only cost five dollars.
All in all, I'd like to say I hate him.
I can't though, because I don't know any words strong enough to describe my feelings for him. Slowly, but surely, he's whittling away my sanity, and I don't have much left.
He's sixteen, by the way.
EDIT: Jeez, that's a bit bigger than I thought it was going to be.