My other little brother.
My youngest brother, K, is a gem. He was born when I was 15 so I've always looked out for him more than just in the big brother sense - I've always felt responsible for him, showing him right from wrong, etc.

Anyway, I remember deciding to take K to the corner shop (proprietors of an Asian persuasion) with his first pocket money, so that he could buy Match, Shoot or whatever the latest epilepsy-through-multiple-luminous-capital-letters-and-exclamation-marks-inducing rag was out that week.

So, I made a big deal of letting him get the magazine himself, and after a bit of hesitancy from the wee sprite, he headed off to the counter and parted with his well-earned pocket money.

Chuffed with his new found independence, we moved to leave the shop when, in a moment of hubris, my young sibling, in front of the whole shop and it's staff proclaimed...

"I was a bit worried coming in because of all these dark people Scentless, but I'm not scared of this paki shop anymore, thanks!"

I don't know what was more violent - the expression on the shop owner's face or my tug on my brother's arm as we bolted out of the shop.

It took me a good few weeks to pluck up the courage to go back for my monthly porn/lad mag fix...

He wants to be a policeman now.

He'll fit right in!
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Fri 18 Apr 2008, 15:46, Reply)