JUST because you’re both in your 30s doesn’t mean your brother or sister has ceased to be a twat, or that you should not come to blows about the following trivialities:
‘I was watching that, wanker’
You were happily munching crisps and watching the Only Connect Christmas special. Leave the room to top up your Riesling and there’s your brother in your chair eating your crisps starting the new Indiana Jones. The resulting row only ends when Mum confiscates the remote.
‘You cheating bitch’
Your sister, apparently a lawyer now, is incapable of even a simple round of charades without being a overcompetitive arsehole. Mouthing words and using rudimentary sign language to win, and Dad just lets her. You get her back by eating her Ferrero Rocher.
‘We’re not allowed to open presents until Christmas Day!’
On Christmas Eve, presents under the tree, your little brother incorrectly insisted that he be allowed to open one before bed. You rightly twatted him for this when you were twelve, but can you justify violence to prevent him opening a pack of M&S Fresh Feet socks ten hours early?
‘I should have won the cracker’
Dinner served, you pull Christmas crackers with your brother and win both. It was fair and square, his pulling technique simply wasn’t up to scratch. Your 70-year-old mother shouldn’t have needed to intervene and explain that there’s only one cracker each so everyone gets a prize, yet here you are.
‘She’s got more than me!’
Why the f**k has your sister got at least fifty percent more Christmas pudding than you? She was always the favourite. You tell your mother not microwaving another one because that’s not the point. Why are you so angry about this? Is it because little sis owns her house, while you rent a room in a flatshare with students who’ve nicknamed you ‘Dad’?
‘He’s had my chair’
The festive argument that bests stands the test of time is your brother, whether at meals or in the front room, always parking his arse in your chair. Bide your time. He’s pushing 40. He’ll need a piss sooner rather than later.