Yesterday I promised El Senor's coworker that I would post a picture of him with Dwight Schrutte glasses. You see, apparently El Senor has told his coworkers about my blog and tells me that I have a silent following over there. So, to reward my silent voyeurs, I present to you the childhood of Cicada and El Senor.
You see, it's funny that the two of us have ended up living together after all these years and all that's happened between us. We never liked each other growing up. He was by far my most trying brother. When he was seventeen, I once ran outside to cry about what a horrible person he was, and my mother came to comfort me, letting me know that he probably would never treat me nicely until after his mission.
We had a bad history. When I was nine, he'd put Weight Watchers and Shape magazines on my bed and tell me to use them. When I was eight, he'd comment on my disgusting unshaven legs, or he would tell me to "suck it in" when we went to the beach and my little tummy was showing. I once walked into a room and he looked at me and said, "Holy crap, you're ugly."
I was nasty to him in return. I would deliberately provoke him. My mother saw me provoking him one day and watched the ordeal. I annoyed him to the point that he finally hit me. He got in trouble and was sent to his room. My mother came to talk to me and said, "You knew that he would hit you if you kept doing what you were doing. Why did you do it?" I replied, "I like seeing [El Senor] get in trouble."
Fortunately for us, we both grew out of it. One day things simply changed---and it was even before he left on his mission. I'm not exactly sure what did it, but things have never been as bad as they were. Sure we have our moments, like when El Senor comes into the living room at 3:00 a.m., claiming that my silent typing is keeping him awake. Or like when I get in trouble for leaving a bowl in the sink overnight, but he never gets in trouble for leaving a cereal bowl beside the couch all night. Or like when he gets mad that I drink from a new glass every time I get a drink. Or like when I call to tell him that I went out of my way to buy him a Costa Vida burrito and he complains that it will be cold by the time he gets home and it'll be no good reheated. But seriously, things are better. Like now, instead of ordering me to read Shape and Weight Watchers magazines, he politely encourages me to read Shape ("You know, you can get a subscription to Shape for only $6 at discountmagazines.com...") and encourages me to participate honestly in Weight Watchers ("Don't worry, Cicada. I'll eat all that pumpkin pie you made. You don't have to even have a bite!").
And fortunately for us, we also grew out of what we used to look like back then. But mostly, I blame our parents for that. I present to you some pictures of El Senor with Dwight Schrutte glasses.
(Consider this last one my special bonus to you. Notice that Captain Fabuloso has a nice manly pair of hockey skates, but El Senor is wearing a cream colored coat, a dainty scarf, and figure skates.)
