Oh, brother...

For the past three weeks, our apartment has been at the mercy of our - my brother's and mine - housekeeping skills or lack thereof. We've been asked to take charge of everything until my parents and sister get back.

Now, my Kuya and I get along pretty well. Even back in high school, I'd prefer to watch tv in his room than in Mae's because she gets upset if I crease her bedspread or get crumbs on the floor. In my Kuya's case - well, anything goes.

Without our Mom there to remind us to keep things as immaculately clean as possible, we tend to forget about doing chores like sweeping and mopping the floor, doing and folding laundry, or keeping the kitchen utensils in order.

An advantage of getting along with your siblings is that you agree about what to do, what not to do, what to put off for later, and what not to let our parents know. I bet my mom would have disapproved if she saw us throwing Fuji apples back and forth just to see who's the better catcher. We also get to watch basketball games on tv without switching channels (we're the only family members who want to watch them from start to end).

It also helps that we have similar interests. We analyze my plates for my computer-aided design class and both solve for trigo functions at one am in the morning. We take turns reading the Bible (It's a good thing that the Bible has two markers because I read the Old Testament, and he reads the New). We also take turns with my guitar - he practices while I'm still learning to play.

I am not sure from where we got this, but I notice that we each have our own odd behavior. Once, while watching tv, out of the blue, my Kuya dared me to do at least two clean push-ups and sixteen sit-ups (and boy, how my muscles ached the next morning). He experimented cooking rice toppings and it turned out to be sooo bad that we had to throw everything and had to fry hotdogs instead for lunch. And aside from her borderline neat-freak tendencies, I bet if my sister was left behind with us, she'd also have her share of eccentricities. She has been known to do impromptu interpretative dances while singing off key.

They're coming home in a few days. We already planned to make the place squeaky clean by the time they get back. I just hope that my mom doesn't do another one of her last minute decisions wherein nobody's aware when she's arriving. She's notorious for her indecisions. The long-standing joke is that if she says she'll be at the pier in the morning, fetch her from the airport at night.

I guess I do know where we get the quirks from, after all.