Bloody Curves

As I sit and listen to my father, or mother, or sister, or older brother, it amuses me that we all relate information in detailed stories. We get to the point in a roundabout way, weaving our experiences and observations all together by putting in what happened slightly before (for the context), the during (with italicized voices and bold flourishes), and the after (because we know you want to know how it's all turned out). Sometimes I tell stories over and over, eventually sick of myself for saying them repeatedly, but still enjoying the fact that I've learned all the places to pause for emphasis and the eye-roll cues.

The only one who doesn't do it is my younger brother, who's quick to say, "Yah, what. is. the. point?" Then he cusses, but that won't bear repeating because I've found the unfortunate fact that vulgar words have crept back into my everyday language and it's got to stop somewhere, so it might as well be here.

And now he's here and wants to use the computer and it's not he's letting have a lot of ti-