There’s A First Time For Everything

Today is my youngest brother’s birthday. But today he is no spring chicken. Although chicken is one of the descriptors that seems to suit best. Still absolutely no chance of a resolution but still holding it together enough to wish him nothing but the best going forward.

Still remember the day he was born. Easily the best excuse for escaping school my young self had encountered up till then. All of a sudden there were three of us and having another brother was the most exciting thing in the world. Until I realised how much noise this thing could make.

From the get go he was strong, willful and determined to have his own way. Thirty eight years have apparently seen that those qualities remain undiminished. It matters not. Loved his little pink bones then. Continue to. End of.