Summer is my favorite time of year. Even though I have been out of school for years and years the end of Spring still makes me itch for summer. There is something about this time of year that gets the old ticker beating hotter.
Years ago it was anticipating a good summer romance, endless possibilities filled my summers. I never knew exactly what would happen, just the certainty that I would head back to school with a million new stories to tell.
This year I was granted yet another chance to engage in a practical application of the old saw, “you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family.”
There is nothing better than going to the old family barbecue so that you can be subjected to the pompous proclamations of a know-it-all and his self inflated sense of self. And did I mention that this preening peacock resembles the bird in more ways than one. If not you let me do so now by saying that his pea brain makes him sound like a, well you know.
I usually try to avoid the moronic monkey by hanging out in places he won’t frequent. It is not because I am afraid of him, but because I have a hard time censoring myself around him. He says such ridiculous things it is impossible not to comment.
The man is a college professor. I’ll do the university the favor of not mentioning his name or what courses he teaches. I’ll even give him partial credit for being an obnoxious putz by saying that his mother has taught him that wealth means that you are something special.
But since he is an adult I can only go so far in relieving him of accountability for acting like an ass.
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