My Rins

I have a little brother. He is 5ft, nine years old and his name is Rinnie or Rins, to those who know him well. Most of the time I enjoy his existence; he’s pretty decent. In this post I will delve into the issues with having a Rins.

He wants to know everything, and by wants to know i mean he already knows, he just wants it explained. As he grows, edging closer to his final form, he is becoming less innocent and this is displayed through the flurry of questions I am asked on a weekly basis, don’t understand what I’m on about, let me give you an example.

The other day I am walking him to football practice with my friend just minding my own business, when he turns to me and asks me a question that would leave even the most well equipped and intelligent man at a loss for words.

“What’s porn?”

In my mind all i could say was it’s over, I had lost control, jump off the fucking ship it’s about to crash, kill it before it lays eggs, RUN, fuck,RUN,fuck,RUN, we’ve been ambushed, burn the son’ bitch down we’ve lost it.

I felt like I had been attacked, he might as well have put two fists up and squared up. I’d only known this thing for nine years and it had for some strange reason, unknown to me, decided that I was a suitable place to come ask for information. I was also quite amused because I knew that there must’ve  been some creepy kid on the play ground at his school gathering crowds of children and greeting them with rhetorical questions.

“What’s porn? Are you serious dave how could you not know what porn is? I’ve been poring since I was like 6 M8.”

“What’s herpes? Ask your mum Dylan, we know she been fuckin.”

“Anal warts? completed them M8, only the cool kids get those.”

This kid was most likely called Jimmy and had greasy hair that looked like it only got washed on special occasions, like his uncle Marvin’s second release from prison, or his auntie Linda’s celebration for her promotion from 2nd executive chef at KFC to 1st executive chef. The other kids would all stand listening to their leader, the kid who not only could teach them about porn but list the names of the 12 different STD’s his sister got from her 5 day trip to Zante.

So Im stuck in the middle, I know the answer to his question but i really don’t want to tell him. An award silence consumes us, only broken by my friend uttering the words “google it,” then laughing hysterically. Thanks Will. I don’t know what to do so I just start laughing, hoping that Rins will just forget, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, he’s 9. He just kept pestering and pestering, I felt like the sales assistant at JD who is consistently hassled by that one customer always saying “shit this is overpriced, how about you give me your discount”  whilst giving a toothy smile and light chuckle that says fuck you, give me a discount (I speak on the behalf of all sales assistants globally, get fucked ;). So I decide enough is enough and I finally reply.

“Ask mum”

And with that he took my answer and ran off to football training. I am jesus, somebody give me a crown I am now a king. It was genius, getting your mum to deal with it,her Rins her problem.

So I was in the clear, but theres been plenty more questions since then, and I don’t know how long i’ll last until the next one. Or what it’ll be. What’s wanking? What’s a rusty trumpet? A european steamboat? It’s all bit overwhelming, but i guess I’ll just have to take it as it comes.


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