My sweet, dear, little baby brother turns seventeen today. As the youngest of three, and the only boy - he lived what most would call a blessed childhood. Though, Husband would say not-so-much.
I remember well the day I decided to paint my little bro's fingernails rainbow. We did so in the tub so that it wouldn't make a mess. Starting with a big red toe, each toe progressed from yellow, to green, to blue. They were beautiful, and even cuter given the size of his 'ittle toes. Mama made us take them off.
His favorite color was pink, a color his kindergarten teacher attempted to talk him out of.
All our lives we called him "boobie". No, this has absolutely nothing to do with the body parts. It started as bubby, and like his toenails, progressed. Now, at seventeen years old, I still catch myself asking "could you pass the salt boobie?" (Husband: "WHAT did you just call him!?")
These are all photos from our family vacation to Hawaii in 2005. Although, I would usually worry about embarassing him in photos, when my sister and I look like this - I don't have to apologize. He, smiling like an angel, me looking like a total gnome.
Dear brother, if you are reading this - I love you. And no matter what your friends tell you, you did turn out normal. Happy birthday, love your very proud sister.