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The Last Days of My Twin I Absorbed in the Womb
‘Tis the season to evict my squatter, vagrant, Grinch of a brother.
Christmas with the family can be stressful. I’m lucky because I’m close to my parents and I get along well with all my siblings except for Christopher. Thirty-four years ago, I absorbed Christopher in the womb and he refuses to let it go.
I’ve apologized thousands of times. I feel bad about it, but we do things as fetuses we wouldn’t do as adults. And, really, I didn’t have much say in the matter. I was simply more absorbent, but try convincing my brother this wasn’t an in utero coup.
Christopher doles out daily doses of passive-aggressive vitriol, but he’s the absolute fucking worst at Christmastime. As soon as November rolls around, he begins dropping little barbs such as, “So, what are you going to buy mom this Christmas, Trevor? You remember mom? The woman who chose you over me before pushing you out her vagina.”
He brings up mom’s vagina a lot at the holidays because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. Any time I start to feel a little holiday spirit, he drops a vaginal bomb. He’s basically Michael Buble, waiting all year to blast his Christmas classics, except there’s less Santa Baby and more Mom’s Vulva.
