Wear the Effing Pants
Okay, my little brother is having his Mohegan tribal blessing next weekend. My dad and stepmom were kind enough to invite you. We’ve been together for a year and a half, so it’s about time people treated us as a package deal.
But now there’s a snag in the plans. Everything would go perfectly if this one thing wasn’t an issue. And what is this problem? You don’t want to wear dress pants.
Seriously? This fun, awesome weekend (I’ve been to a blessing before; having you there can only make it better.) is going to go down the crapper because you won’t buy and wear a pair of dress pants? I don’t think so, mister.
The plane tickets have been bought. The sleeping arrangements have been hashed out. The travel between airport and parents’ house has been taken care of. I have been looking forward to this event for 14 months(since my brother was born). And I’ve been especially exited that I wouldn’t be missing you throughout the whole thing.
You. Are. Going. To. Wear. The. Damn. Pants.
I realize that you don’t like the way they feel. I know that, for your entire life, you’ve avoided things you don’t like because of your Asperger’s. But guess what? It’s a few hours, on one day, out of the rest of your life. Can you please just do this for me?
I hate wearing dresses. You know that. But I’m doing it for this blessing. I know it’s not the same level as your problem with this, but still…if I can do it, can’t you?
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