|JUST BEFORE I TRIED TO SHOOT HIM OUT OF THE CANNON.|
(AROUND 1962. FORT TICONDEROGA, NY.)
In addition to my brother's developmental issues, he can be obsessive-compulsive. We all have a bit of it, I suppose. I like to align things. Our mother, The Dowager Duchess, folds plastic grocery bags into flat 4-inch squares that look like they've been ironed, and she folds sheets and pillowcases so perfectly that you can't tell which are the fitted sheets until you've unfolded them.
|BACK HOME ON LONG ISLAND.|
The Kid Brother's OCD leads him to make the fluffiest scrambled eggs imaginable. He beats and whisks the eggs into a froth of perfection.
|IN THE LATE '80s, PUT TO WORK IN OUR CONNECTICUT KITCHEN.|
In honor of Chuck's birthday, I was going to bake a cake. But then I thought of how it would probably turn out. So I sent a gift by mail instead. Sorry, Charlie! Watch the below tutorial to see why there's no cake. (Chuck loves The Three Stooges.)
Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WISEGUY!