Williamsburg, VA
August, 2010
I never say "I love you" to my brother unless we are being sarcastic. I know it's weird, but it's something we just don't do. I think it's understood that we love each other, that we'd take a bullet for one another, that we'd shank someone for one another. We just don't put it into words. I love him, though. Truly, truly. He's smart, he's funny, he's someone I admire. He's a hard worker, a solid friend, a loyal brother. He's appropriately inappropriate and always there when I need him.
I love how we can text each other random lines from Archer and know exactly what the other is talking about. I love he always manages to stop in for a short visit when his work brings him down this way. I'd love to have him closer than B-more, but I'll take these quick trips when I can. He brings out my goofiness and the laughs don't stop. I love how he's an awesome uncle, continually amazed at how smart and savvy Morgan is. He has a special bond with Coever, something to do with those identical birthmarks of theirs, I'm sure.
I love how he's dying to have the girls stay with him for a week-end, but flinching at the fact that assistance with wiping may be part of the equation. I know he's going to be the one that teaches them to run Hail Mary's, introduces them to the Justice League and the X-Men, gives them ice cream and Pop-Tarts for dinner. He'll take them to ESPN Zone and help them with their fade aways from the three-point line. He'll let them race go-karts and run ragged at Chuck E. Cheese. He'll let them stay up late watching whatever they want on television and give them Kit-Kats and Yoo-Hoo for breakfast. Then, he'll pack them back into my car with a wave good-bye so he can go inside for his "nappy-wappy". And the thing is, I'll let him. He's my brother, and I love him.
i still think he need to be the next bachelor.
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