Particularly in elementary school, my younger brother Ben was into Nerf guns. I liked them too - though not as much as he did - and would sometimes play with him. However, I found it a bit annoying how infrequently he dealt with the aftermath. The foam bullets would litter the floor. I would keep finding them in my room or under the kitchen table, just lying there. I would tell him to pick them up, and after a lot of pestering, he might. Actually, that in itself wasn’t so big of a deal. I didn’t mind that much - like I said, it was only a ‘bit annoying’. Overall, my brother and I get along quite well. We played together and still consider each other friends. Like many younger siblings, though, my brother has made it his personal mission to infuriate me. Now that we’re older, and we can have good conversations, I recently asked him why he tries to annoy me when he knows I don’t like it (and that I’ll probably hit him for it). In response, he said, genuinely, and a little perplexed, “I d...
Annette - Nonfiction Writing