Happy Sunday, fellow Islanders!
Compelled by my argumentative younger sister’s circumstances, I’ve been meeting regularly with my two younger siblings as we devise our respective strategies.
In what can be best described as a
Counsel of War, my younger brother’s mission is
rescue and recovery aimed towards our long suffering brother in law.
It will be his job to extract our brother in law from his wife’s bedside and take him to the nearest bar for a couple of beers and the opportunity to vent.
Smokescreens and diversions will be our baby sister’s purview. With a face like a kewpie doll and the voice of a chipmunk, she can talk nonstop for hours without anyone getting a word in edgewise.
Leaving our argumentative sister no choice but to finally take the pain medication her surgeon prescribed (but she thus far has refused to take) to escape the incessant chatter.
And then there’s my assignment. In every military operation there’s always someone who has
to take the bullet.
Which means (in addition to my visits) I’ll be calling her every afternoon to listen to her complaints while
agreeing with everything she says.