On Thanksgiving day, we ate at my mom's house in Oak Park.
My Grandma, Mom, Step-dad, little sister, little brother and I all sat down in the living room in front of the TV to eat our Thanksgiving meal. At the start of the the meal my little brother stood up with his plate and walked into the kitchen, by himself. He is 10 years old. I picked out his name when I was 12 and he was born.
"Brandon, where are you going?" we all asked.
"I'm going into the kitchen to eat by myself, because I don't feel comfortable with all of these people." And he did.
we all laughed.
"But Brandon we're your family!" we all said.
"He's weird. He's really weird." my mom said.
But I can't help but to love him.
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