My crippled brother Chris and I were in a house when my father walked in. My father, apparently angry about something, asked Chris if Chris was wearing the same clothing as yesterday. When Chris said he was, my father shouted that nobody was taking care of Chris. I told my father I had already carried Chris, who weighed a lot, to the couch so he could enjoy himself. I pointed out that Chris also had something to eat.
My father became even angrier. He picked up a metal chair and seemed to be going to attack me. I also picked up a piece of furniture and prepared to defend myself. It looked as if we were going to have a bloody fight.
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