|You in 2005|
|Moi in 1995|
Today we celebrate the fact that you are eight years old (even though your real birthday was Wednesday). Today, we will have cake and presents and ice cream. As I type this, you (having no idea that I'm writing a blog post about you) are thundering around the family room playing hide-and-seek with our sister Laura. Hmm... maybe I should stop narrating everything that happens and just live in the moment. Miss Dashwood and her not-so-little-anymore brother Jerry are living in the moment!
To say I'm having a hard time believing that you're eight now would be an understatement. Great Gatsby, this is your ninth year! This is the big leagues! And I guess this means I can't call you Teeny any more. Oh, you don't like that, do you? It hurts your feelings? Sorry. But at any rate, today on your birthday (or the day we're calling your birthday) I'm going to embarrass you by publicly telling the world just how glad I am that you're my brother. I wanna get to the story of our relationship, the evolution of mere siblings to friends. It's gonna make you cry... so listen up, lunch box.
Over the last eight years, you've made your presence known in this family. And we're a kajillion times the better for it. You're our firecracker, the one who runs instead of walking, shouts instead of talking, tried to be born three months too early (I'm so thankful we didn't lose you!), the one who's so adorable that sometimes we can't take you seriously. You've got moxie, kid.
You've taught me that you simply can't make pizza without blaring Disney music as loud as possible (and singing along... also as loud as possible. LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS TO DEFEAT THE HUNS!). You've taught me the fun of spontaneity, the importance of taking little moments here and there (okay, everywhere) to just be crazy. After all, you and I live in the United States of Don't Touch That Thing Right There In Front of You. Which means we're Americans, and we don't plan. We DO.
You've taught me that a little boy is so much more than just "a noise with dirt on it," as people like to say. You've taught me that gentleness and compassion come in all shapes and sizes, that being the world's greatest rough-houser only increases the strength of your hugs. You may be small, snack shack, but your heart is large... metaphorically speaking. You've taught me that no two people can ever be exactly alike, but that despite a gap of ten years and many differing interests, you and I can be absolutely awesome friends. You've taught me that the key to happiness is found not in physical exercise, but in love.
Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am
Bigger and stronger too, maybe
But nobody's ever gonna love you the way I do
Just me and you, boy
And as the years go by our friendship will never die
You'll see it's our destiny
'Cause you've got a friend in me.
Oh, and one more thing before I close... you may be a Snackyvore that eats snacks and treats, but MOM SAID NO SNACKS. It's a FACT.