(no subject)

The problem with dealing with my barely-twenty-year-old brother sometimes is that first, he makes me want to punch him, and then when I reflect on how I treated people who tried to help me when I was twenty I want to travel back in time and punch me too. There should be a mother's day card that says (sorry about 1997 to about 2008, Mom!) with maybe a picture of a stove fire or a rear-ended cop car.