little brothers are really useful. mine in particular ranks pretty high on the usefulness scale. he’s got a car, and doesn’t mind being the one to drive to dinner. he’s pretty insanely smart, so he helps me feel less stoopid. he went from freshman to junior standing after only one semester in his university’s honors program. when he was younger, we suspected he had a photographic memory. he’s my computer/tech gear guide, and was responsible for introducing me to the world of p2p file sharing. he excels at every sport he attempts - he was captain of the varsity lacrosse team - and patiently explains sports games to me. and, he’s got a great sense of humor - so he’s also very entertaining.

of course, if he weren’t any one of these things i’d still love him to death cuz he’s my little brother - though at nearly 21yrs old and over 6 feet tall, he’s not all that “little.” in fact, he’s tall enough to reach those hard-to-reach places and strong enough to carry huge water bottles inside from the backyard. see? useful.

and last night, he again proved his usefulness during a very critical, emergency situation.

we were in the kitchen discussing dinner options when all of a sudden he says, in his usual mellow fasion, “whoa - there’s a wasp.”

of course, this sent me sprinting out of the kitchen, flailing my arms above my head. self-preservation, you see. if you’re not familiar with wasps, they’re like bees on steroids. but, wasps in a hot, humid houston summer are like bees on steroids AND crack. and, they have these huge stingers, which can maim and kill. no, there haven’t been any documented cases of wasps maiming or killing innocent people standing in their kitchens, but i’m sure they could if they wanted to. anyways, as i’m running around the house imagining wasps coming to get me, little brother calmly arms himself with only a thin plastic produce bag and an unsharpened pencil. an unsharpened pencil, folks. and i’m not talking about those plastic grocery bags you get at the store - i’m talking those thin plastic bags you put your tomatoes and cucumbers in. less barrier protection than a condom, i’m telling you.

little bro’s first stragegy was to calmly follow the wasp around the kitchen, using the plastic bag like a butterfly net. hello. my contribution was to yell GET THE RAID and make other loud noises. when that didn’t work, he finally cornered the wasp and knocked it out with the unsharpened pencil weapon. not killed or squished, mind you. he just knocked that murderous insect unconscious. then, he scooped up the dazed wasp using the ridiculously thin plastic bag and started to examine it.

“hey, cool. look at it’s stinger. it’s trying to sting me.” he started walking towards me. the wasp was, by this time, awake, struggling between his fingers, and highly pissed off.

NO THANK YOU.

“no, really. it’s cool. look.”

NO.

shrug. “ok.”

and outside he went to dispose of the wasp.

since little brother had saved the evening, i volunteered to go pick up dinner.