The Brothers Flynn and the Flynn Family Nemesis

Meet Sean Flynn. Sean invests in low-risk portfolios, dreams of a world where babies' first words are "reduce, reuse, recycle," and spends weekends lifting weights and eating lean proteins. Meet Brian Flynn. Brian invests in lush tapestries, dreams of furniture that requires rainforest deforestation and harm to small animals, and spends weekends lifting base coats and eating Mexican. And he's hyperlink-able.

Things in common: DNA, need for oxygen, sporadic middle name usage, affinity for mocking the other brother's profession.

Sean discounts Brian's success in the world of interior design, convincing people who hear that he has a famous brother that Brian is a "decorator" by trade and employed as Vern Yip's assistant. Brian mocks EPA-employed Sean's quest to save the environment by blaming his routinely 15-minutes-late self on having been burning rubber tires or pouring crude oil into creeks.

Here's a snippet from the latest Facebook war between Captain Planet and That Guy From TV:

(Font becomes somewhat legible when you click on the image.)

As the above spat took e-shape and a mini blizzard pounded New York, Shannon exchanged the below with the family nemesis that is Braden's kindergarten teacher:

Hi [Braden's Passive Aggressive Teacher],

Just so you know, we still do not have power and are staying with my in-laws across the river. I think Braden is a little out of sorts. He told me that his stomach hurt today and that he was in the nurse's office. He also came home with a pair of pants that don't belong to him. He didn't really give me any details. Do you know what happened with him today?

Thanks,
Shannon

Hi Mrs. Stroppel,

Braden had a meltdown, tears and hysterical crying, saying his tummy hurt. When he got to the nurse, she found that his pants were soaked, and she gave him dry ones to wear. He cried that he'd spilled water on them at home. He also said he was upset because you were angry and yelling just before he left for school.
I've put the pants in a bag, and they should come home today.

Regards,
[Braden's Passive Aggressive Teacher]

Flynnbox (4): Meet Braden

Whether you've been my best friend since we fought over Gerard in Mrs. LaBranche's fourth grade class or you're the mystery crew with whom I shared a Buckhead-to-Virginia-Highland cab ride on New Year's Eve, you likely know three things about me: high heels are a recipe for Neosporin, I speak faster than most Toyotas accelerate, and I adore the living crap out of my two nephews. The pint-sized comedians are products of my sister, who lives a gazillion light years away in New York. Braden will be six in August, Brennan will be four in October.

Flanked by half Flynnified DNA, Braden has an uncensored gift of gab. Consequently, he's the subject of many an e-mail titled Deep Thoughts by Braden Stroppel. By way of my sis, this one hit the Flynnbox last week:

"So being the Catholic practicing at a Methodist church (as I like to call myself) that I am, I was teaching Sunday school the other day. I read the children a story about Jesus being in a house where people were trying to see if he could heal the sick. Three male friends carried their crippled friend to this house, but it was so crowded they could not get him in. The friends persevered and climbed on the roof and cut a hole and lowered their dear friend into the house where Jesus of course performed a miracle. Braden and Brennan were in my class...

Nanny [paternal grandmother] comes over and says to Braden, "Did you go to Jesus's house today?" They both say, "No," then think a little harder and agree that yes, indeed, they did actually to go "Jesus's house." Nanny asks Braden if he sang any songs in Sunday school and he says, "No." I then tell Braden to tell Nanny what the story was about in Sunday school. Braden said, "Oh, Jesus was in a house and some guy was trying to get in so Jesus broke his legs."

Yep, that's my godson.