How to annoy your younger brother with whom you have nothing in common (except politics, which is a pretty significant commonality) in Daydreaming on the Porch

I had of a brief phone conversation earlier today with my younger brother, who was clearly exasperated into sullenness by my immediate jokiness and corny conviviality. I do like to joke around when I talk to him because he really doesn’t “get” my humor, mostly.

After asking him what he was up to, he replied that he’d just gotten back from doing some shopping at Wal-Mart.

I asked him, innocently, what he had purchased. He basically said, to the effect of, “just a bunch of nothing.”

“Oh, come on, tell me everything you bought!” I inquired brightly. (Just kidding, of course, but he thought I really wanted to know, which of course, since I like to wallow in minutia, I was sorta/kinda curious).

This all stems from an admittedly annoying habit I have of my cataloging all my purchases from Dollar Tree, which I pour out to him on the phone to his endless and rather hilarious frustration and anger.

“Oh, and do you want to know what I bought at Tuesday Morning?” (Which is right next store, so why not indulge a bit there, too?)

“NO!” he literally snarled this time.

His phone has a glitch he won’t get fixed and only works on speaker, so his partner hears whatever she wants.

So, going back to this afternoon, I asked her to tell me what he bought.

She semi plays along. “It’s really just ordinary stuff,” she kindly assured me.

“Oh, please tell me!”

By this time my brother is not only snarling, but growling, and I realized my humor is inexplicably wearing thin.

Then, to add insult to injury, I told him that I had taken some boxes of books and “things” (Dollar Tree knick-knacks, etc.) to my storage unit, and felt I could reward myself, so I bought a vintage/antique-looking clock at Michael’s craft store.

“HOW MANY CLOCKS DO YOU HAVE?” he practically yelled.

I knew at that point he once again would not understand. I won’t bother you with my answer to his question, which was a good one, and so funny. (Trying for a little levity to defuse his now intense level of exasperation).

However, when I think about it, I am a bit embarrassed about the reason I got this particular clock. Suffice it to say, it was quite indicative of just how peculiarly eccentric I am, but in a good way, of course.

Okay, I’ll explain. I’m one of those people who rarely if ever looks at the time on his phone. I have to have a watch on when I’m out and about. In my apartment, I need small, battery-powered clocks in every room so I can always see what time it is. I had two in the living room, until the other day when I got that third vintage clock.

I have a coffee table between two sofas that are perpendicular to each other. A clock faces me about five feet away so I can easily see the time when I’m sitting on that sofa. However, I spend the bulk of my time when in the living room lying comfortably reading on the other sofa, my head resting on a large and very comfortable pillow. The only problem was, I couldn’t see the clock, which faced the other direction toward the first sofa I mentioned.

How to solve the dilemma? The answer came like a flash of genius. I would simply buy another small clock, around the same size, and put it back to back with the first clock so that when I got up from one sofa and went to lie down on the other one, I wouldn’t have to turn the first clock around to face me when I was all nice and comfy.

I told my brother all this and was met by silence on the other end. He was suddenly speechless, for some odd reason.