Okay – so about (or exactly) 1 year and seven weeks before I was born – my brother was born. I’m not sure what he did exactly (aside from being the subject of much adoration) until I came along – but it is clear that he had plenty to do once I showed up.
Here you see my brother looking at me. Pretty sure he is saying stuff like, I like my milk in a chilled glass cup and my cookies on an orange melamine plate. No crumbs. And also – my Hot Wheels collection needs cleaning. Can you get going on that?
My brother has always been there. Literally. And I idolized him. Up until he started driving me crazy then I tried to alternately torment and impress him.
Right after this picture was taken – my brother pulled the little “castle” on top of my head. Although it looks like that plant is growing out of my head – actually there is just a little bit of hair in that barrette and he pulled it. I decided not to show you the “after” picture because my face was red and puffy.
There is a cassette tape (those of you under 35 may need to google that) of my dad interviewing me and asking me what my name was. I answered with my full first name, my brother’s middle name, and our last name. He followed that up with asking me if I was a boy or a girl. I answered that I was obviously a boy. He asked about my sisters – what were they? In disdainful tones I answered, “They’re girls.”
(My big brother, me, my littlest sister, and my middle sister who looks like the littlest but isn’t. That joke never gets old..)
My brother is one of the best people I know. Even though whenever I flipped him off during our teenage years he tried to wrench my middle finger off of my hand – I have always been able to count on him. He is a good person and a wonderful uncle to my kiddos. Though he doesn’t have his own kids yet and is occasionally taken in by Scratchy’s pledge that “Mom always lets us put M&M’s on our cereal!” I know he’ll be a great dad someday.
So there you go – you have now been introduced to my brother. I’m headed to his house to serve him some cookies with no crumbs.
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awesome blog. You didn’t mention the time he bounced the golf ball off your head.
Right – or the time he zinged that Tupperware hamburger maker thing at my head and I had to get stitches… It’s almost like I was a pro at annoying him….
Wasn’t there also something about a pencil to the neck on the way to school? That one sticks in my head…although, the details are fuzzy.
Yessss – details are fuzzy – so probably we should attribute to him…