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Christmas day dawned gray and snowy, a refreshing change from the usual weather common to Houston in December (60°+ and humid). All was proceeding splendidly at Effingbroke Manor, with much convivality and good cheer as family members reminisced and caught up on events of the year just past...then my brother showed up.
He proceeded to sneak into my father's liquor cabinet and drain a fifth of Jim Beam plus some R&R (whisky) while raging on his cell phone to his "baby mama" about her BF-of-the-moment. After haranguing and hanging up on her, he launched into a graphic tirade (in front of the whole fam damily, including my 91-year-old grandfather) about how he would like nothing more than to kill and dismember BF, then commenced whining about how badly his life sucked, asking my grandfather from which side of the family he (my brother) inherited his "anger issues". He then passed out in a chair for several hours.
When he woke up, I announced that we had enjoyed quite enough of his Christmas cheer, and that it was time for him to go. When I asked him for the keys to his car, he refused, pushing past me out the door and driving off...leaving behind his 2-year-old daughter (which was for the best, considering how much he had drunk). We had to call baby mama (who was elsewhere with her other two kids from a prior "baby daddy") to come pick my niece up, as brother had disappeared to parts unknown.
I haven't heard from him since. Don't care if I talk to him again. And I feel sorry for his little girl. I am going to do my best as she grows up to be ol' Auntie Eff and be there for her, because I am almost 150% positive no one else will. I just wish I could do more right now, but finances and other problems have conspired to make that idea impossible.
Did I mention that my brother is 30?
So how was your Christmas?
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