Happy birthday, boy I didn’t want…

Today, my baby brother celebrates his 19th birthday.  It makes me sniffle a little.  It’s hard to believe that when I was five, there was nothing that I wanted more than for my Mommy and Daddy to take him back and get me a puppy.  I was not pleased that they brought home this squirming, crying thing that replaced me as the baby. I was the baby in my immediate family, and on my mom’s side of our extended family.  I was old enough to understand that being the baby brought bonuses, even with a cousin that was only 6 months older than me.  And all of a sudden, there was a crying thing that took my mom’s attention and replaced me as the baby.

Then, over the next few years, he was inconvenient and annoying.  When I was in high school, he was in third grade.  By the time he was in junior high, I was in college and living on campus.  But then, I started noticing that he wasn’t such a pain in my butt.  He was actually kinda cute.  Of course, it helped that everyone kept telling me how much we looked alike (give him a few more years and you might mistake us for twins).  So maybe he wasn’t so bad anymore.  ^__^  And then he became a real cutie.  All the little girls had crushes on him.  So maybe I didn’t like most of the ones he dated (there were more than a few you could flip a quarter through their ears), but it could have been worse.  They could have been ugly and ditzy.

Now he’s in welding school, about to finish actually.  When he started, he was in the bottom of his class and now he’s at the top of his class.  He’s already got a job where he’s gonna get paid good money.  And I’m proud as a peacock with two tails. ^__^  It helps that he gets cuter and cuter every time I see him, but I might be a little biased.  Only a little, though!

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