I love my brother. I love my brother. It's like a mantra. I really, really do. He just drives me nuts about 80% of the time. Teenagers couldn't have been this brain-explodingly frustrating when I was one, right?

(At this moment, my mother has to be feeling the urge to hit me and having no clue why...)

Phone's ringing, and I can't figure out why no one's answering it. I grab it, look at caller id, it's a university that's been calling for Jim when he hasn't been around to take their calls. I knew he didn't want to talk to them, but they still have to be told that, or they'll keep calling. Duh.

So I answered it.

Me: Hello?
Young Girl Recruiter: Hi, I'm calling from *** University? Could I please speak with Jimmy?
Me: Sure! I'll go get him!

*walks across house*

Me: Hey, Jim, phone. *holds out phone, mouthpiece facing him*
Jim: *glares* I'M NOT HOME.
Me: But--
Jim: *shouts angrily* I'M NOT HOME!

Um. Um.

Me: *mortified, puts phone back up to ear*
Me: ...
Me: ...he's not home.
Young Girl Recruiter: *is already laughing*

So then naturally I couldn't help but start laughing too, and the conversation was concluded between gasps for air.

Just another example of what happens when your parents and older sister spoil you mercilessly. I have only myself--and okay, my parents--to blame.
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