Brotherly love

For this to be an honest and complete journal, I need to occasionally list some of the more embarrassing things that I do, as well as the things of which I am proud. So here’s one for the books. I’ve thought about how ridiculous it is from time to time, but it wasn’t until the last time I talked to Doug on the phone (and Rachel via speaker phone) that I realized just how silly it is. Let me explain:

When signing off from a phone call with either of my parents, the usual concluding phrase I utter is, “Love you,” or perhaps, “Love you, too.”

When completing a phone-call with my beloved sister, jen_ashlock, I usually mimic her phrase, “Love ya!”

With Doug, it’s different. It has been for ages and I don’t know when it started but I do know that Doug was the one to start it. Perhaps it is something innate in brothers that we can’t easily say, “Love you” or “Love ya” when hanging up the phone. Or perhaps it’s just a guy thing. But when concluding a phone call with Doug, neither of us say, “Love you” or “Love ya”. Instead, we currently say something that vaguely resembles a quick, “Luhhhhh!” followed by “Bye”. I don’t know why this is, but I must have started doing it because Doug started doing it. In fact, the phrase has deteriorated over time. Years ago, he would say, “Okay, talk to you later. Luhya. Bye.” This has devolved into “Luhhhh!”

I have a feeling that we both realize this and that we both look with discomfort on the awkward moment we know that will come at the end of our calls. Of course, maybe this is just me. But I don’t think so. You see, the last time Doug and I talked on the phone, I was on speaker phone and was talking with Rachel as well. As we wrapped up our phone call, we went through the usual ritual:

DOUG: Well, we should get going.

ME: Yeah, me too. I’ve got to get to bed. Good talking to you though.

DOUG: Yeah, you too.

ME: Okay, talk to you later.

DOUG: Later. Luhhh! Bye.

ME: Luhhh! Bye.

But before Doug could hang up the phone, I heard Rachel laugh in the background. And the timing of the laugh, the pitch and timbre of the laugh all implied that she was laughing at the ridiculous way that we expressed our feelings for one another.

Well, there you have it. I can’t say we will quit this nonsense. It’s become our thing. But it really doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, you all know how I feel about you. I don’t have to say it. Or do I? Okay, well, them:

Talk to you later. Luhhhh! Bye!