“You really shouldn’t speak to your brother that way,” Paula chastised.
“I know,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done it, but it was a reflex response. He’s so guilty of oversimplification. And he speaks with such bravado even though he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Just like that unhinged lunatic he so admires.”
“I understand that he does that on numerous occasions,” Paula admitted. “But I think he’s just naive.”
“Naive? He’s clueless, gullible,” I responded. “I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with him anymore. It’s time to close the proverbial curtain on my ignorant brother.”
“Don’t do that,” Paula pleaded. “He is your brother, your only sibling.”
“So you want me to be all warm and fluffy when he tells me what a wonderful president that orange moron is?” I asked.
“It’s ‘warm and fuzzy,’ not fluffy,” Paula corrected.
“Whatever,” I said. “His thinking is incredibly fuzzy. I won’t put up with his stupidity one minute longer.”
“Well,” Paula said, “Just remember what the Beatles sang in ‘Hey Jude,’” she said. “‘It’s a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.’ Don’t be a fool and cut your brother out of your life.”
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