Why must he be such an awesome cook? Why must he bake when he's stressed? Why does there always have to be something completely irresistible that's bound to clog my arteries in the fridge?
How am I ever going to learn to cook for myself when I have him here to cook for me?
*ultra melodramatic* How am I ever going to be able to tell my true friends from the ones that just use me to get to my brother's cooking?
And he's going to make the kitten fat, too! I got home from the store and found the little demon on the counter eating the chicken out of my chicken and avocado sandwich!
On an entirely different note, I just picked up the first Wheel of Time book, by Robert Jordan. I am about 400 pages into it. And, really, what is so special about these books? No, like, what? The characters are... really, really dumb. I want to strangle every female character introduced so far. I really want the two hours that I've spent reading it back.