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It's Not His Fault!
[For those of you who have youger siblings, you may be able to relate to this story. It certainly gave me a good laugh! And even if it's nothing big, it still managed to bring me a little bit of satisfaction in the end.]
My youngest brother lives with my mother and I, however, my mother is one to never hold him accountable for his own actions. "It's not his fault!" is a common phrase in our house, and since my little brother is now in his early twenties, it's been beginning to grate on my nerves lately. Especially given the fact that he won't even make his own meals, let alone close a door. In fact, that same habit of not closing the door was how our cats got out again.
My brother was playing on his phone when I first noticed the cats were missing, and I'd already had to close the door for him an hour before, so it wasn't too hard to figure out what had happened when I couldn't find them in the house. I pestered my brother several times to help me find the cats and help me get them back inside, with no luck. In the end, he ran off, and I had catch the cats myself, as well as explain to my mother what had happened when she got home from work.
"Why do you always expect me to play the referee?" and "It's not his fault!", were the only things she had to say about it, so I closed my mouth before I said something I'd regret. After all, going by her logic, I shouldn't have been looking for the cats either...
Biting my tongue, I grabbed up the leash by the door and took the dog on a walk. It gave me some time to blow off some steam, and the wisedom to choose my battles wisely. By the time I got back, my mother was already standing by our front door after changing her clothes at the bathhouse.
Now I have excellent night vision, so I'd already seen my brother standing out of sight on the other side of our trailer, and my mother, who was locked outside because the door handle had been broken.
"It was fine when I left!" She huffed. "Who could've broken it while I was gone!"
Still remembering what had happened earlier, I pointed at my brother and said, "It's not his fault! He's over there!"
My mother followed my pointing finger with her eyes and glared at me suspiciously. "Well, since he didn't do it, who else could've done it?"
I smiled, handing her my dog's leash, and keeping my face blank, so she didn't know I was trying not to laugh. "I don't know. I wasn't here!" I shrugged, and walked towards the unlocked back door to let them in. "It's not my fault either."
I don't know what her face looked like after that, but she was silent for the rest of the night.
© Britt Clark
My youngest brother lives with my mother and I, however, my mother is one to never hold him accountable for his own actions. "It's not his fault!" is a common phrase in our house, and since my little brother is now in his early twenties, it's been beginning to grate on my nerves lately. Especially given the fact that he won't even make his own meals, let alone close a door. In fact, that same habit of not closing the door was how our cats got out again.
My brother was playing on his phone when I first noticed the cats were missing, and I'd already had to close the door for him an hour before, so it wasn't too hard to figure out what had happened when I couldn't find them in the house. I pestered my brother several times to help me find the cats and help me get them back inside, with no luck. In the end, he ran off, and I had catch the cats myself, as well as explain to my mother what had happened when she got home from work.
"Why do you always expect me to play the referee?" and "It's not his fault!", were the only things she had to say about it, so I closed my mouth before I said something I'd regret. After all, going by her logic, I shouldn't have been looking for the cats either...
Biting my tongue, I grabbed up the leash by the door and took the dog on a walk. It gave me some time to blow off some steam, and the wisedom to choose my battles wisely. By the time I got back, my mother was already standing by our front door after changing her clothes at the bathhouse.
Now I have excellent night vision, so I'd already seen my brother standing out of sight on the other side of our trailer, and my mother, who was locked outside because the door handle had been broken.
"It was fine when I left!" She huffed. "Who could've broken it while I was gone!"
Still remembering what had happened earlier, I pointed at my brother and said, "It's not his fault! He's over there!"
My mother followed my pointing finger with her eyes and glared at me suspiciously. "Well, since he didn't do it, who else could've done it?"
I smiled, handing her my dog's leash, and keeping my face blank, so she didn't know I was trying not to laugh. "I don't know. I wasn't here!" I shrugged, and walked towards the unlocked back door to let them in. "It's not my fault either."
I don't know what her face looked like after that, but she was silent for the rest of the night.
© Britt Clark
