Summary
I got off the plane in the middle of the night and sent my brother a message: [Are you asleep, big brother? Can you come pick me up from the airport?]
He replied with a voice message, his tone light and flirtatious: “Which ‘little sister’ are you?”
“Send a photo so I can see.”
I was speechless.
I hit him with a video call immediately.
[I’ll ask Mom and Dad tomorrow exactly how many little sisters you want.]
My brother’s expression changed instantly, and he scrambled to beg for mercy.
“I was wrong! Don’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“I’ll send my most handsome, most reliable friend to pick you up.”
Later, that “most reliable” friend my brother spoke of would make me cry behind his back.