On the weekend, my brother happily made use of my brute strength, even telling the neighbour who offered assistance with the dresser coming out the front door, “Nah, it’s okay. My sister’s strong.”

Yesterday I helped unload the final heap of stuff — couch, loveseat, mattress, box spring, etc. My brother had asked if I was available to give him a hand, or if he needed to call a buddy of his. I said it was fine, and I’d be right over.

Found out this morning when talking to my mother that yesterday afternoon, after my brother and my Dad had gotten everything loaded into the truck bed and trailer, Mom had informed my brother that the couch and whatnot were too heavy for me to help with. He never mentioned she’d said that. He also didn’t tell me I was incapable of getting his wireless router set up, which I did after the furniture was in place (while munching delicious double-caramel popcorn).

Whatever else he might be, my brother’s not a chauvinist… unlike my Mom. 🙂 (Guess she’s still holding out hope that I’ll morph into Scarlett O’Hara some day…)

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