our family

Jen's (recently) 21 year-old brother is living with us at the moment. He is a nice enough child, but a giant child nonetheless. I am perfectly comfortable with him feeding and walking our dogs, watching our apartment, even keeping his area of it fairly neat. He holds down a job and an internship, does his own laundry, and pays for his own drinks.

I am decidedly less comfortable with his ability to do things like make plans, follow directions to arrive at a location, or choose a television program that doesn't make my skin crawl with loathing for the likes of someone with such as ridiculous name as Zach Braff.

The point is, having him here is more hands-on than I anticipated when Jen asked me 9 months ago if this arrangement would be OK. He can support himself, but he would eat only macroni and cheese and cupcakes if left to his own devices. He isn't terribly messy, but he has no idea that the back of a dining room chair is not the appropriate location for his sweaty t-shirts to "air out." And most of all, he has a few friends in town, but he really really really really likes hanging out with his family. Which apparently includes me.

Jen is most certainly family. And I love her mom and get along fine with her father and stepmother. But I never really said, ok, well, this whole bunch of people is my family now too. I thought about it in vague terms, christmas presents were exchanged, holidays visits were made. But in the months that lil' bro has been in town, in home, this vague academic notion of joining the clan has become a day to day reality. When the "Nagle!" rallying cry goes up, I am called upon to respond. With enthusiasm!

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