F*ing Told You So

This afternoon I hit the point of being sick of my brother. This morning got off to a rough start which I'll sum up me making appointments for the boys to look at two more houses, even though, DUH, they'd already found the "perfect" one. My point was that they hadn't really looked at many places, and only saw one other that was really comparable, so it'd be good to look a little more to make sure the "perfect" house really was, you know? i.e. I wanted to do a bit more comparison shopping, and, since these things never go as smoothly as one would want, it never hurts to have a back up. My brother, as you might guess, got irritated with me. He had it all figured out, and I should just shut the F* up and leave him alone. But, when I said I'd make the calls, he said he'd let me.

This morning I called about four houses he & Mike had seen the outside, but not inside of, and found out that two weren't ready to look at. The other two, I made appointments to look at. First house, first thing in the morning, and it wasn't as wonderful. My brother didn't say anything out loud, but his attitude was very much, "I told you so."

Then they called the real estate office about the house they picked and found out it wouldn't be ready to move into for a week. They don't have a week. My brother said, "I guess we'll keep looking." At 1:30, we went to the 2nd appointment I arranged. Guess what? It's got all the things they liked in the other house, like a 2-car garage and screened-in back porch, but it's nicer, and they can move in as soon as their background checks clear, i.e. tomorrow.

In short, I was right and my brother was wrong, and that made him pissy. What do you think he does? Any word of thanks? Any, "I guess you were right?" Of course not. So, he's irritated that he was wrong, and I'm irritated that he's being a pissy little girl. From there, we kept getting on each other's nerves and by about five o'clock I was sick of him.

I went out for a walk around the base to get away from my sibling for a while, and when I got back, Mike was gone to take a shower and I asked if, instead of him and Mike hanging out in our room tonight, they could hang out in Mike's. He said sure. Mike came back, they sat in the front room for a while, they eventually made dinner, and then my brother said something to Mike and Mike left. My brother stayed. Damnit. They were both supposed to go the hell away for a little while, both. My brother is the one getting on my nerves, not Mike. It's my brother who I want to go away for a while. *sigh* At least they're going to the realtor's tomorrow, and the realtor's in a neighboring town, so they'll be gone without me for a little while. Thank you Jesus.

I'm just going to focus on the part where they're picking my house, and forget about the part where my brother is a 22 year old who thinks he knows everything and I know nothing. (If nothing else, this experience is giving me gobs and gobs of understanding of some of what my parents have gone through. Mom and dad, I'm so sorry I was ever a teenager. Thanks for not murdering me.)