Jeb, The Sequel

Being 7 years older than my little bro often made for mothering rather than sistering. One of the things I remember with such clarity about when he was little is how S-L-OOOOOO-W he did everything (still hilarious to me that the slow moving person joined the military). He would get up from the table, clench his dirty hands together so he wouldn't accidentally touch anything, then stop in front of the TV. And stand there. And watch. And keep standing there. Until Barbara started in on the crazy harpie hollaring. Many, many daily tasks ended this way. And Jeb would then slowly make his way into the bathroom, wash his hands like an OCD person, slowly dry his hands, slowly hang up the towel...just reliving it is making me want to scream. And that is exactly how I feel about Elliott's morning routine. Hold cheese toast, watch TV, keep holding toast, listen to me yell, "EAT YOUR TOAST," take one little nibble, repeat process for 15 minutes. Then I called Doug to report how slow he was being, and even Doug, the in-law, said, "He is so much like your brother."