My brother Weylin is a wonderful young man, he really is. Lately though he has just lost the motivation to do well in school and has been giving a lot of attitude to people. Well our dad decided that he deserved to have his privileges taken away, such as his car and cell phone usage. He did, however, still make my brother go to work doing his janitorial duties working for our grandfather. Usually my step-mom drove him up every Wednesday to pick up trash and to empty the trashes outside a strip mall complex but this particular Wednesday she had something else to do. I don't exactly remember what it was, all I know is that she asked me if I would mind driving him up there. I had no problem with it; it gave me something to do.
So we made the drive about a mile to a mile and a half up to the strip mall where my brother was to work and I had to pull around back to allow him to grab trash bags and other necessary supplies. I pulled up into a parking space and put the car in park. My brother says to me, "What are you doing? Pull up to the door." I asked him, "Why?" What was his response? "So I don't have to walk in the cold."
Yeah I was a bit pissed off with that one. I put the car in reverse and pulled about ten feet from the supply closet door so he didn't "have to walk in the cold". He gets in the car and directs me to drive to the front of the complex where he is to pick up trash. At this point I am irritated with the whole scene in the back so I took the ten minutes to try and cool off. He gets back into the car and has me drive in front of the store where he empties trash. When he gets out he says to me, "Drive around back and wait for me by the dumpster. I don't want to have to put the trash in my car." Fine. No big deal.
I pull around to the side of the strip mall by this point having gone three-quarters away around the building. I pulled in the parking spot about fifty feet away from the dumpster still to were I could see it in my rear view mirror. I watch my youngest brother drag a few garbage bags full of trash to the dumpster and hoist them in. Then proceed to point to me, stamp his foot and give me the "come here" finger wave. OH HELL NO. I turned around in my seat and gave him the death glare and pointed at him to come to the car. Who was he to have me wait on him hand and foot? Not the Queen of England I could tell you that much. He just stood there; not moving an inch. I then threw the car into reverse, slamming my foot on the gas and pulled the car up to "his royal highness" so he could get in. We then had to finish the circle going back to the supply closet where I parked in a parking space and told him, "This is where I am stopping. You can walk your ass to the door." That did not sit well with him. He got out, kicked the door closed with his steel toe boot, which I am sure dented it but what do I care? It was his car anyways.
On the way home there was silence that filled the car. He tried to tell me how to get back to the house but I was so pissed off at him I told him to shut up and let me do the driving. Well since I live in Arizona, and it was only my first week and a half in Kansas, I got a bit lost on the back roads and I decided to do a large rather reckless U-turn in a huge parking lot. I was pissed off, give me a break on that one. He uttered a few short words that sent me over the top: "I'm going to die in this car today."
One way to piss me off is to be a passenger seat driver, which he had already done the whole first week and a half I had been there. Those eight words were the icing on the cake for that day. We pulled back in front of the house where he proceeded to go inside. I was so pissed that I sat outside cleaning out his car filled with soda and energy drink cans that kept "pinging" due to the constant temperature change in the car. I was driving it so I wanted a clean car. While cleaning, I called our brother Michael Jr. who was at his wonderful girlfriend's house at the moment, to (pardon my language) bitch about our brother. He calmly said to me, "Just tell Dad when he gets home. He will handle it."
I hung up the phone with Michael and had by this point lined up all the cans on top of Weylin's car. When he saw the fact I pulled out an gigantic Monster energy drink can he came out from the house, walked over to the car, and grabbed the one can of approximately ten to fifteen and threw it away. This, to most people, would raise a question of why just that one can? Well in that house, energy drinks are not allowed. He left me to struggle with the rest of his mess. Oh I was pissed.
That's when the angry Chelsee came out. Once I threw the garbage out into the trash, I let that boy have it. I told him that I was not his personal slave and that next time he needed a ride anywhere, he could walk his ass in the ten degree weather. I couldn't care less. I yelled at the kid for about five minutes until he stormed off kicked over the trash can and went inside. I have never yelled at anyone like that in my life. Just as my brother stormed inside, my dad was pulling up in his big Dodge diesel truck. Oh, I made sure to express my "frustrations" with him about my brother. Lets just say that after that conversation he had with my brother, I was never treated like a personal slave by my brother again.
I really do love my brother. But at that moment, I was really going to beat the crap out of him. None the less, things with him have progressed seemingly for the better from that moment on. I can't wait to see what he chooses to do with his life. Who knows, you might see the next video game designed by him.
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