.... but you can't pick your family.


My younger (and only) brother bailed on my birthday party last weekend. He said it was because he wouldn't know anyone (never mind our aunt and uncle flew in specifically for this from Texas). He said he'd come over the next day and give me the cards he and my nephew had picked out. They did.

Then my brother called on Monday saying he needed me to watch his son over night this Saturday because (get this) he had a BIRTHDAY PARTY he wanted to go to. He said (and I quote): "Sis, I really, really need to go to the party on Saturday".

Oh really.

Well, how about a "FUCK YOU!".

I won't go into how much I've done for this kid and how much it would have meant to have had him at the party on Saturday. I was complaining to Frank about it, and he said something I needed to hear:

"You can't pick your family, but you can pick your friends. And they all made a point to show up to your party on Saturday night, didn't they?"

Yes. Yes, they did. And I love my friends very much. They've become my family when my real one has sucked major ass. These are the people I call when I have trouble in any part of my life. I know I could close my eyes, point to anyone around the room that night, and know they'd do whatever they could to help me - and me for them.

My brother is still an idiot, though.