It’s my baby brother’s birthday today. He’s 20 years old.
Twenty years ago, my sister and I woke up to find out we had a brother. We held hands and jumped up and down on the bed.
This kid and I have gotten into so much trouble over the years. When we were little, we wrestled for hours at a time, breaking many household items in the process. When he was trying out for basketball in 5th grade, I practiced with him daily and told him he couldn’t handle my ‘street ball’. To this day, if I sing the words ‘street ball, street ball’, he gets angry.
Greg is sensitive. He’s smarter than he knows. He’s also a pain in the ass know-it-all. He’s cocky. (Sample Greg line, as he stares into the mirror: “Damn, I get better looking every day.”) But he is a beautiful, beautiful boy, one I’ve loved watching mature into a sensitive young adult.
I love him and my sister equally and unconditionally. The three of us are a team. We will always, always be.