Tootsie's Broham is Totally Boss

My brother and his family are here visiting from Virginia. They are in my house right now. Here. Downstairs. Every time one of us travels to visit the other, we spend the months in between talking about when we'll see each other again. My brother? The most awesomest brother ever to have lived in the history of siblings. My brother? The funniest person I know. He's also? My bestest buddy. That, of course, was not always the case. Except that it was but not. There was a time when I beat him on a daily basis which also included some pinning down and threatening him with dangling spit because that's what big sisters do. And sometimes they follow through on that threat. I would occasionally fart on him. Or just up and outright belch in his face and blow for emphasis. I also had him convinced that Mom loved me more. Sometimes, big sisters are assholes. But, even though there was all of that, I also had his back. I was his protector from bullies and demonstrated that through physical combat with his enemies. We had each other's back when it came to keeping out of trouble with the mom. Then when puberty hit for him he turned into kind of a douche and we hardly spoke until I moved from home. That simple act was the catalyst that changed our relationship forever. One full of love, respect, and friendship.



When he graduated from high school he broke my heart joined the navy and moved three thousand miles away. I was the only family member to attend his boot camp graduation in Florida [an aside: if you ever have the chance to visit a military base, I highly recommend it what with all of the MEN IN UNIFORM swarming the premises. It helps if you're 21 and single to boot]. Then he was transfered up to Virginia where during the course of his service he met the woman who would become his wife one of my best friends. Wasn't that thoughtful of him? He warned her that I'd never once liked any girl he'd ever introduced me too and he wasn't lying even a little bit. He had this poor girl scared shitless to meet me face to face. Then one day, while on leave, he came home to visit and flew his new girlfriend across the country to meet the family. And then I showed up [cue a little diddy called "The Imperial March" and picture Darth Vader if that helps you hear the music]. And it was one of those rare experiences where you meet someone for the first time but also can't imagine having never known them. [Now imagine "The Imperial March" coming to a screeching halt] I loved her from the start.

After his time was served they moved out to California. For the next seven years we spent several days and/or nights a week at each other's homes. Did I mention his wife is also a kick-ass hairdresser? She's a master stylist at a swanky salon and if you have a few hundred dollars lying around to drop on your hair then she's the girl for you because even she admits she can't afford to see her own self. When she was living in California, and before she leased her own suite in a salon in Studio City, she worked for a man called Allen Edwards. You may remember him as the man who originated that unfamiliar 70's hair cut named FARRAH FAWCETT. And while she was working there I would get discounts on my hair needs and totally free when she had her own place. Then my brother and his wife decided they wanted to buy a home. You may not know this about California but in order to buy a home you have to have something banks like to call HALF A MILLION DOLLARS OR MORE. So, after seven years here on the west coast, they packed it up and moved back to Virginia where they bought a beautiful home for half of the aforementioned California requirement.



And now they're here. And I'm going to do my level best not to think about Saturday morning when they'll be leaving. I'm going to enjoy every minute that they are here and hug and snurffle my nephew as much as he will allow. I will still post but they may be light. Which, from what I gather with all you Google Reader peeps out there, may be a little bit of a blessing.