This was supposed to be completed by the end of June but I was too busy being overcome by the “ORGANIZE ALL THE THINGS!” bug. Now my house is a little more organized but my blog is unhappily tapping its foot and flashing an angry cursor at my blatant disregard for deadlines. I’m just gonna go ahead and blame the disasters that
are (were!) my bedroom closet and bathroom cabinet. That’s right. I just passed the buck to inanimate objects, y’all. There are no limitations to my mastery of the blame game. I’m the youngest of four, what can I say?
So, sorry Matt. This is a little past your actual birthday but can I get points for posting in the same week?
Man #3: Brother
If ever there was a big brother worth devoting a blog post to: it’s you. After all, you are my ooooonnnly braaather as our mother loves to remind us dear sisters. I know that technically I was “supposed” to be a boy when I arrived to equalize the boy/girl sibling ratio, but instead you became TRIPLY BLESSED with sisters. I will admit, looking back on what it must have been like growing up in our house, I do have a smidge of pity and a teeny-tiny ounce of admiration for how you endured the majority of your childhood. But mostly I think you were the luckiest guy ever. 😉
You’re also the best big brother ever. Behind all the eye-rolling and exasperated sighs, is a guy who really cares about his family… and it shows. It showed when you let your 3-year-old sister “play” with your legos and dutifully held her hand as she wobbled up the stairs to show mom the lego “airplane” that she made. It showed when you dressed up as a butler, or Dopey the dwarf, or some other character to help facilitate one of your sister’s birthday parties. I’m sure there were some baseball cards promised for some of those gigs, but the fact that you did them speaks volumes. It showed when you attempted to teach your gangly, pre-teen baby sister how to dribble a basketball (between you and me, let’s just pretend that didn’t happen). It showed when you tutored me in algebra without making me feel stupid or foolish. I still hate algebra, but I didn’t hate hanging out with you. And although my high-school self may not agree with me on this one, it even shows when you tease.
You’re so good at making us laugh at ourselves, and you know why? It’s because you know us. And that doesn’t just happen overnight, it happens over years of showing up and being there — dance recitals, piano recitals, gymnastic meets, graduations (well.. except for my college graduation. OHHHHHH! BURN.) And let’s face it, even though grandma loves each of her grandkids equally, I’m hard-pressed to find her hooting and clapping more enthusiastically than when you’re serenading her with your saxophone or smooth-talking her with that ridiculous Pennsylvania-dutch accent.
Some people think I’m pretty funny but it’s really just because they haven’t met you yet. I owe a lot of my snarkyness to years of sarcastic, fun-loving, back-and-forth banter with you and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
In short, I like you alot.
And since I’m the sentimental, eccentric littlest sister and this is my blog — I’m just gonna go ahead and say it: I love you, Matt!
Happy belated birthday!