October 15, 1991, my world changed. I was almost 3 years old, so I didn’t realize it at the time. An American Tail: Fievel Goes West had just come out, so I got a Fievel cup (which I still have) with my supper at Pizza Hut. I also got a small yellow hospital gown. Because, as the big sister, I wanted to be allowed to hold my new baby brother.
Fast forward 24 years, and my little brother isn’t so little anymore. He stands at about 6’ 1”, easily a head taller than me, and has a pretty sweet goatee. He’s got his own place and drives himself all around town doing his grown-up job.
Sarah and I both have little brothers. Little brothers are creatures all in themselves. Their job description is to annoy you and to love you, all within the span of five minutes. They call you on your crap, but they support your every endeavor. They’re often your first roommate, your first partner-in-crime, and your first best friend. You fight over chores, the remote, and who started it. You have inside jokes, and sometimes even your own language! They’re the only other person in the world who truly gets what it was like for you growing up, because they were literally right beside you.
I know this blog is about two best friends, but I’m actually one of those girls who has more than one best friend. And my brother really was my first one. My mom tells a story of how, in wanting to play horsey with him when he was about 2 weeks old, I sat on my little brother practically squishing him! All he could do was squeak! But, he survived. We later managed to survive our teen years together too (My mom had a 13 year old and a 16 year old in the house at the same time!). I moved away, but I think it actually helped us get closer. He was the first one I told when I decided to move in with my boyfriend at the time. He told me it was stupid and the wrong thing to do, but he didn’t give me grief about it every time we talked about it. He took over my room while I was down in Florida, and, since his room had no A/C, we actually shared a room for a few weeks after I moved back. Needless to say, we didn’t get much sleep! We’d stay up late talking about everything, like best friends do.
We now live about 10 minutes away from each other, but we talk all the time. He comes over to my house for dinner; I go over to his house for Ink Master marathons. We go to midnight premieres together, and we get ice cream at the mall together. He sends me snapchats from his adventures at work throughout the day, and I bombard his phone with Facebook stickers and gifs.
But no matter where life takes us or how old we get or who we end up with, he’ll always be my little brother and my best friend.
Happy 24th birthday, little bro. I can’t imagine life with anyone else.