I called my brothers this weekend to ask them to donate to my walkathon, and I really had to talk myself into it. I have a hang-up about asking people for money, so I needed to remember that this is for a charity. I didn’t really need to worry about calling my brothers, because I was able to get a hold of three of them and they’re going to donate. I was prepared to argue with one brother, though, because he likes to annoy me.
Me: I need you to donate to a charity. (The best method for this brother is to be direct.)
Brother: As long as it’s not a charity about breast cancer. (He knew ahead of time I was signed up for the walkathon.)
Me: It is!
Brother: I’m not giving you money.
Me: You like breasts, don’t you?
Brother: Oh yeahhhh!!
Me: You want to save them, right?
Brother: How far are you walking?
Me: 60 miles.
Brother: (Scoff) You’ll barely make it to 10.
Me: I’m walking with a friend, it’ll help us stay motivated. Because apparently I can’t rely on my brothers to do that.
Brother: Huh!…Yeah, we’ll donate.
My brothers sap my strength sometimes, but I love them!