Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Happy Birthday, John Boy!

Today, not only do I write you, but my sister has joined in to help me tell you about our brother, John. Since I'm the youngest, I get to go first:

Happy Birthday to the brother . . . . . .

who always held on to me and farted and made me sit in it.

who gave me noogies until I almost had a bald spot

who always told me nobody wanted to watch me poop and to please close the bathroom door.

who has given me two of the most generous Christmas gifts ever!

who Skypes me while he is cooking and always tells me he is working on his fence and then shows me said fence.
 who suffered a loss so big it would have leveled me, but he picked up and kept on living and taking care of others.

who takes care of family anyway he can, even if it means just calling and talking so you aren't sad anymore.

who is a total Rock Star career-wise and makes me proud.

who thinks I am a total airhead but still reads my blog and thinks I am funny.

who would look amazing in a red dress!

who laughs at the minions like a three year-old and not like the 52 year-old he supposedly is.

who tells me he only looks so young because he is fat (he isn't).

So, that is my take on John. Of course I didn't see him as much as Sandy did because she was closer in age. She thinks that John thinks it's cool to have sisters; I think she is delusional because he won't even acknowledge me on FaceBook. My mom makes weird kids.

This is Sandy typing.  How in the world do I follow that up?!  Julia said all the right, and true, stuff about John.  I remember the "noogie ambulance", too!  It hurt. . . . . .

Today is our brother’s birthday!  His body is 52 years old but his heart and brain act 18!  That’s okay, we all still love him . . . . . . . .

How about a walk down memory lane. . . . . . . . . .

He was always grumpy with us.  I think having so many girls around annoyed him.  Everything we said to him seemed stupid.  I remember once, he broke his leg playing baseball.  He was in another community so he called my mom to come get him and drive him home (or to the hospital).  He was short and annoyed with my mom.  I remember thinking to myself, "Why is he mad at us?" Now I get it. . . . . .

Another time he had pneumonia.  But we all wanted a pizza and he was the only one who could drive (they didn't deliver back then).  So, he volunteered to go get us the pizza even though he was so sick.  When he came back and parked, he hit the neighbor's car.  Not only was he sick, but we always had these HUGE station wagons so it's no wonder he hit the neighbor's car.  Poor guy . . . . .

Once, our parents went out of town and he was in charge of me.  I jammed my finger playing softball and he wouldn't take me to the dispensary. He told me just to ice it -- hey, he was having a party in the house.

He was very generous with his money.  He was very generous with my money, too. . . . . . He is four years older than I but I was always loaning him money to go on dates.  I'm pretty sure he has more than made up for that!
 For much of our earlier years, it was just the two of us.  He never complained about hanging out with me. We played a lot of games and listened to the radio. He never let me drink from his drink.  He says I always spit in it.

I remember once he was in so much trouble with my mom.  His senior year in high school, all the seniors went to Spain for their trip.  Every one in the family (Oma, Opa, Mom, Dad) gave him spending money, but he didn't tell each person that other family members were giving him money.  After he left, they all talked and realized they gave him too much money!  Of course, he spent it all (who woudn't!) but he sure got an ear full from our mom when he came home!

He was a good athlete, too.  (I'm sure he still is!)  Any ways, he played football and was going to a championship game in another community. He overslept so the bus with the team came to our house to get him. The first thing he said to the coach was, "Can my sister ride on the bus, too."

If he ever wonders, we want to tell him that he’s a good brother and a good son. (I’m sure his son would also say he’s a good dad.)  He is the only “brother” so he was always treated special.  As sisters, we see it as “special” while I’m sure he sees it as “what should be”.  Our Oma and Opa adored him, too!  That’s okay – we happen to think he’s worth it. He's honorable, funny, kind, and naturally happy. How lucky are we?!

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