You stand at the threshold of your brother's house, the smell of burnt garlic wafting through the open door. This is the standard welcome at your brother's house - a symphony of culinary chaos punctuated by the occasional booming laugh. You take a deep breath and push open the door, braced for the usual hurricane of activity.
Except, this time, it's quieter than a graveyard. The air hangs thick with the aroma of burnt garlic, but the kitchen is deserted. You walk through the house, calling out to your brother and his wife, Penelope, but only echoes answer.
“Hello? Anyone home?” you shout, your voice echoing strangely in the vast, silent house.
You find Penelope sprawled on the couch, snoring gently, a half-eaten plate of burnt garlic pasta perched precariously on her chest. You nudge her gently, but she only mumbles something incoherent and snuggles deeper into the couch.
Then, you hear a muffled thump from the guest room. You find your brother, your dear, generally sensible brother, wedged upside down, his legs dangling precariously over the edge of the bed, his head stuck firmly in the headboard.
'What in the world, Pete?' you ask, trying not to laugh.
'I was trying to hang a picture,' he explains, his voice muffled by the headboard. 'It's an 'inspiring quote' from Penelope.'
You peer at the picture on the wall. It features a cartoon unicorn with a rainbow mane, and below it, a motivational quote that reads, 'Sometimes, you just need to say 'screw it' and climb a metaphorical unicorn into the sunset.'
You stifle a laugh. 'I understand the sentiment,” you say, 'but maybe you should start with a smaller picture.'
You free your brother from his upside-down predicament, his face red with embarrassment. He explains that he'd tried to hang the picture with a hammer and nail, but after several failed attempts, he'd decided to resort to Plan B: wedging the nail into the wall with his head. He hadn’t considered the potential of getting stuck.
'You're lucky Penelope didn't see you,” you say, trying not to think about the image of your brother, contorted in the most ridiculous fashion imaginable, with Penelope stumbling upon the scene.
“Don’t worry,” Pete says, “she’s in a food coma. She ate an entire pot of the burnt garlic pasta.”
You shake your head, wondering how Penelope can possibly be in a food coma with a pot of burnt garlic pasta, but then again, you know Penelope – she’s a force of nature in her own right.
You spend the rest of the afternoon helping your brother hang up the inspirational unicorn picture, this time, using a level and a screwdriver. You manage to avoid any further head injuries, but not without a few minor scrapes and a couple of near-misses.
Later, as you’re enjoying a cup of coffee (carefully avoiding the burnt garlic pasta), you hear Penelope’s voice booming from the living room.
'Did you guys see that article about how unicorns are symbolic of hope and joy?' she asks, her voice full of enthusiasm, despite the seemingly disastrous lunch she’d just enjoyed.
You glance at your brother, who shrugs helplessly.
“Yes, Penelope,” you say, taking another sip of your coffee. “We saw it, and we’re very impressed by your profound knowledge of unicorn symbolism.”
Penelope beams, then turns to your brother. 'I have an idea for our next art project!' she declares, grabbing the paintbrush from the table and launching into a detailed explanation of her vision for a unicorn masterpiece.
You exchange a resigned look with your brother. Sometimes, it's easier to just go with the flow, and you’ll never know what unique and unconventional art piece will end up on your brother's wall, thanks to Penelope’s unstoppable enthusiasm.
As you depart, you promise to return soon, but you secretly hope it'll be a while before you have to face the burnt garlic pasta again. But you know, even with the culinary mishaps and the upside-down artwork, this is what you love about your brother and his wife. They add spice to your life, even if it occasionally comes in the form of a burnt pot of pasta or a misplaced head. You may not always understand their eccentricities, but you know that you'd be desperately missing them if they weren't in your life, even if just for the fact that you never know what kind of chaos you’ll find when you next walk through their door.
