The beauty of being a grown-up is that when you get cravings, you have the ability and means to drive yourself to the store (or, in my case, McDonald’s) to immediately satisfy those cravings. No such luck for three-year-old Connor.
When young Connor found himself without pancakes, he felt his only solution was to punch his brother Aiden in hopes that their father would immediately deliver him a platter of flapjacks. Needless to say, it did not work. Somehow, as his brother flinched and cried in pain, Connor managed to explain his dire situation very calmly to his dad, the whole time keeping the focus on the real problem at hand: he still has no pancakes.
I get it, dude. I have that same struggle every Friday night after I leave the bar.
Like, oh, basically everyone everywhere, I’ve been totally consumed with thoughts about the fight between Jay Z and Solange Knowles following the Met Ball a few weeks ago, security footage of which was leaked online yesterday. I’m a fangirl of both Knowles sisters, and my belief in everlasting love is tied maybe a little too closely to the marriage between Jay and Beyonce, so as a Carter Family obsessive, this story is impossible to ignore. Given that Beyonce and Jay Z’s life is presented so flawlessly to the public — even their past troubles have been presented after the fact with a glossy veneer of hindsight and lessons learned — the elevator brawl between Beyonce’s husband and her little sister Solange reveals a rather large chink in the Carter Family armor, provoking loads of understandable questions and speculation.
Chances are good that we’ll never know the details, and even if anyone involved does explain what went down, it’ll be carefully worded. To be very, very clear though: Solange Knowles violently attacking Jay Z, for any reason, is not okay. It’s assault. How this will play out legally, now that the tape has been released to the public and thus to the attention of authorities, remains to be seen.
Whenever I do hear about a woman being violent towards a man, I’m forced to confront my own history of such behavior. I can count the number of times where I’ve “snapped” to such a degree on less than two hands, only three of which actually resulted in physical contact. They all involved men I was very close to and love/loved. (I’ve never been in a physical fight with another woman and very rarely verbally fight with other women.) Keep reading »
This past week, my youngest brother came to visit me. His real name is Cuyler, but everyone calls him Bob (for some reason, no one in my family goes by their real name). Bob is 18 now — a solid ten years younger than me — but we’ve always been pretty close, and it was awesome to see him after a couple months of living so far away from each other. Hanging out with my not-so-little brother for a week, I realized that even though I’m the one who’s prone to big sisterly lectures, Bob has probably taught me way more about life than I’ve taught him. Here are five of the best lessons I’ve learned from him over the years… Keep reading »
I used to be a cool older sister. I had all sorts of secret older sister knowledge. So when I told my little brother Gabe that I was a witch and I could fly, he believed me. That was pretty awesome.
I was seven, and he was four.
“If you don’t unload my section of the dishwasher, I’ll put a spell on you!” I said.
He got nervous.
I hated unloading the dishwasher. I still do, actually. Keep reading »
According to a new study, the happiest families have exactly 2.0 daughters. No more, no less. While two girls is heaven, double the number of girls, and parents report being in hell. Four girls is the worst brood combination to get stuck with. Hell hath no fury like sisters scorned. The next best child combo is one boy and one girl, who rarely fight over toys, but don’t bond quite as much. I found this to be a nice combination growing up, especially when my brother agreed to let me put makeup on him. I’m sorry, Adam. How about you, where does your sibling combo rank, and do you agree with its ranking? [Daily Mail UK] Keep reading »
Blind dates are awkward for everyone. There’s enough to worry about without discovering that your date just so happens to be your long, lost sibling. Um … yeah. Try recovering from that awks moment. And here I was thinking I had had the most awkward blind date of all time. He told me he was under investigation by the FBI during our first drink. Keep reading »
God help me for admitting this: I don’t like my brother’s fiancée. Phew. It feels so freeing to write these words. I can’t even bring myself to call her my future sister-in-law. It makes my skin itch. I would love to be able to give you a concrete reason for being irked by her. Like she kicks small dogs or steals subway seats from old ladies or physically abuses my little brother. None of the above. Keep reading »
When we were kids, my younger brother Greg drove me bonkers. His favorite activity was lying like a corpse on my bed while I screamed, “GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!” until I finally dragged him into the hallway. He also liked hiding, then jumping out and scaring me. He wailed like a cat in an imitation of my singing in the shower. I found out he read my diary. (How? By reading his.)
But we were still fiercely protective of each other, especially as the only Chinese kids in a neighborhood rampant with racism, and as we got older, we became more friends than squabbling siblings, banding together against our nagging parents and their disapproval of our non-traditional pursuits (book writing for me, screenwriting for him). But it was when I was going through the toughest time in my life that Greg became not just my ally but my voice of reason, my Cassandra, the one person I knew who was unafraid to tell me the truth. Keep reading »
While growing up — with one sister, a mother, and a father — I’d sometimes fantasize about being part of a massive family. This was, no doubt, because my favorite TV reruns – like “The Brady Bunch” and “8 Is Enough” – made it look like all fun and giggles to have scads of siblings to play with. Turns out I was wrong. According to a new report from Understanding Society, a study tracking 100,000 people in 40,000 households in Britain, children without any siblings are happier, and the more siblings children have, the unhappier they become. The individuals surveyed cited the following reasons why: bullying by siblings, lack of privacy/space, and competition for parental attention. This news certainly shatters the stereotype that an only child is an awkward, unhappy loner. Huh. This could be fodder for those advocating for population control, like Vincent Kartheiser. Or to convince Michelle Duggar to tie those tubes already. [The Guardian] Keep reading »