Sometimes, you text your sibs to remind them that they each owe you 20$ for your mom’s birthday wheelbarrow. (What? She wanted a wheelbarrow.) And for some unfathomable reason the entire thing devolves into you and your sister taking turns rewriting the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody about mom and her garden.
For the record, there was no booze involved. At least, not on my part, anyway.