Brettism Hump Day

The whole idea for this blog originated from the emails that I'd send my brother Mathew to update him on the wacky and funny things that my kids say and do. We coined these "Brettisms" as they were mostly about Brett, who is, essentially Mini-Mathew.

Here's Mathew:


Here's Brett:




They're both thinking about video games right now.

And burritos.


Anyway, since this blog has evolved into a hodge podge of both my daily life and the insanity of raising my six children, I thought I'd post a Brettism every Wednesday. Thus, Mathew can count on his fix regularly, laugh heartily, and congratulate himself on staying childless.

This one I rescued and am re-posting, it was too good to not share again. I hope you enjoy.

The Original Brettism...

Several years ago my aunt Tricia and uncle Robert came to visit us in Delaware with their two kids. It was a great vist, the wee ones had a blast, and the not-so-wee ones had an even bigger blast sharing stories and a few bottles of wine.

A little background on Robert the uncle. He's older and old fashioned. He puts a lot of value on respect, especially from children. I think I was in my early twenties with a couple of kids before he finally conceded that I wasn't going to refer to him as "HRH Uncle Robert".

I head out to the store to restock and while I'm gone Brett decides to ask Robert for a juice box. Brett was probably figuring that Robert would be an easy mark and let him have copious amounts of all things monitored or off limits.

He figured wrong.

Robert tells him no, that he has to wait until I get back. I imagine Robert being very matter of fact about this, entirely expecting this to be the end of the issue.

Brett, not being able to let anything go (did someone say OCD?) asks again. And again. And again. Probably in a time span shorter than it takes most people to make a quick bathroom break. Each time getting an increasingly irritated but similar answer from Robert.

Finally in frustration Brett looks up at him and says "Robert, it's a juice box! It's not like I asked you to walk six miles and have sex with a goat!"

I'm not entirely sure that Robert ever fully recovered.

I gave Brett the juice box.