I wish I could tell you guys about my brother. Because today is his birthday and he lives too far away to send him a singing telegram. Apparently they only deliver “within city limits.” He might be in a different time zone, but it’s still the continental US, okay?
Whatever, amateurs. PS, Your customer service sucks.
Anyway, today he’s turning 48.
Just kidding. That would be mathematically impossible.
But he’s not that far off. What? BURN!
But seriously, I wish I could tell you all about him. But he doesn’t read my blog. Or any other words, ever. When I told him I wanted to write a book, he said, “Cool! I won’t read it.” I’m trying not to take it personally.
My brother is funny. If it weren’t for him, I would be the funniest person in my family. (That actually can’t be proven.)
I wish I could tell you how many times we’ve sat around the dinner table, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. He would turn red and start doing this bark-laugh, I would start crying and do this hideous thing with my mouth because it wasn’t big enough to fit around the laugh that was pouring out of it. Laughter in my family is a common but ugly-looking thing.
He’s also a lot of fun.
I wish I could tell you guys how he invented all kinds of sports when we were growing up, which were basically just regular sports but renamed. Like when we would play Hot Potato with a squishy Auburn football, throwing it at each other with as much force as we could muster to inflict pain make the other person drop it ten times. We called this game Ten Drop. He was never too good or too old to play with his kid sisters.
But I should mention that he’s also a little scary.
Scary might not be the right word.
Intimidating, maybe. Or at least he was. Though the age difference between us has always been eight years, that gap feels so much smaller now that we’re adults.
But there’s still a tiny piece of me that looks to him the most, out of all my other siblings, for confirmation. For approval. Some habits are hard to break.
Maybe it’s because he’s the firstborn, the oldest. Maybe because of our age difference and we never really had to deal with sibling rivalry. Maybe because I’m his favorite sister. (According to his own declaration; Ramstein, Germany; circa 1989.)
But I think it’s maybe because he has always been someone to test myself against; despite how different we might have seemed, he was a reflection of who I wanted to be. He has always been someone who accepted my efforts – as sister, student, athlete, adult, parent – while ignoring my flaws, not bothering with judgment or advice, and made me feel like I was great at it, whatever It was. And if I wasn’t great, then I could be. I will be.
Happy birthday, Big Brother, even though you won’t read this.
Next year I’ll just draw you a picture.
Meet the Buttrams 
There is nothing like sibling love.
Happy birthday to your brother.
And cake!
Oh, I agree. Sibling love is the best and the worst.
DID SOMEONE SAY CAKE?
Now I wish I knew your brother as well…
He makes the best friend.
Lovely.
My brother is 8 years older than me too. And he’s funny. He reads. But rarely my blog. And I love him.
Happy Birthday to Brother Jessica!
Maybe there’s something about that age difference that just always seems to work. Because we never fought. Ever.
I’ve met your brother!! SPOT ON, Jesse! I did the ugly laugh sooooo many times at your house I used to have to take Advil for my headache from laughing so hard. I wouldn’t have survived living in the house as one of his siblings. I would have been in the guinnes book of world records for literally dying of laughter. Happy birthday to him!!
Thanks for reading, Holly! And the Ugly Laugh is how you know you’re actually really funny. That’s my gauge anyway.
Love the tribute. I have the same thing with my 2 sisters. The laughing part anyways.
Definitely. A family who laughs together…
…probably won’t come up with any lovely platitudes.
My older brother tried to kill me for the first fourteen years of my life but we get on all right now. If you survive the early years of sibling rivalry everything seems to work out.
Jeff
That’s true! My relationship with my sisters wasn’t nearly as peaceful, but now they’re my best friends.
I am about 7to years older than my little sister. I can definitely relate to all of the laughter….and fun games.
That age difference seems to just work. My two kids are six years apart, and I’m hoping for the same result.
Happy Birthday to your big brother. They are awesome aren’t they? Yours sounds like a true legend.
Did you say cake?
I don’t even think my brothers know I have a blog. “Aren’t you a teacher or something?”
Hah! Brothers.
“My brother is funny. If it weren’t for him, I would be the funniest person in my family.”
This is exactly how it is with me and my brother. I love some sibling rivalry.
I keep telling my youngest that if he survives his older siblings he will adore them (even more than he already does). Truth be told they adore him too…kinda….or they will.
Nothing can compare to or replace a family. I am thankful everyday for mine.
It sounds as if you have a great one and for that you are very blessed!
Really liked this post. I have two brothers and 4 sisters, so this hits home for me! Thanks for sharing this.
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