When I got out of class last night I noticed someone had left a voice mail on my phone. It was from my brother Ben. Weird. Ben never, ever leaves messages. Suddenly I was overcome with anxiety–worried that something may have happened to him or another member of my family.
“Sarah, there’s something really important I need to tell you…”
OHMYGOD! Insert total panic attack here. During his brief pause I imagined every single one of my loved ones dying a horrible, tragic death. His pause was very short, but my crazy, overactive imagination is very fast.
“…..I’ve decided I’m going to grow a mullet again. I just thought you should know. Talk to you later.”
Yes, again. Stupid Ben. I don’t know which is worse: a dead family member, or a brother with a mullet. But I do know if I had sisters, rather than four brothers this type of message would never happen. Instead it would be a joyous messaging reminding me about the sale at Nordstrom or about the cute shoes on sale at Aldo.