Holidays are hard to tolerate when you’re 5 feet tall and are siblings with a perfect 6’ 3” hoopster like Gary. My brother is such jerk. When we were kids, he used to clobber me when ma and pa weren’t looking, and belch loudly in my face after we had garlic dishes. To everyone else, he was the perfect student, son, and friend--he was passive, but still got his points across, he scintillated across the basketball court like he was riding a segue armed with a jetpack, and when he cut into the Thanksgiving venison, he always gave ma and pa the good parts. Sometimes, I wish I could perforate his stupid head with a spork and grow about another three feet so that he would have to be eclipsed in my shadow for once. Gary turned to me tonight at the dinner table. I hadn’t seen him in five years. He now has a pudge and is balding a bit.

Revenge is sweet.

Life is good.

Happy Thanksgiving.