In preparation/honor of my little (but-no-longer-so-little) brother’s upcoming birthday, here are some words describing our sibling-ship.
I can’t believe he’s turning 24 on Saturday.
Happy birthday, Michael.
My bro — as in my blood brother (no, we aren’t part of a gang) — are four years apart in age. I am four years (and then some) wiser than he is. I distinctly remember being at the hospital when he was born. A nurse carried me around the lobby and then she gave me some markers and I drew pictures of penguins. Actually, I think she was the one that drew penguins since I don’t think I was that artistically skilled at age 4. I knew I was going to get a new baby. I’m not sure that I knew that baby was going to be a boy.
I always wanted a sister. We would share our secrets with each other! We would trade clothes! We would scheme against our parents! We would eat junk food together and not feel guilty! We would go shopping together!
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