Ode to a Baby Brother on the Anniversary of his Birth

Today is my brother’s birthday. Yep, he turns the big 5 – 0 today. It’s hard to believe he’s that age because I always remember him as my little brother. That’s quite funny, though, because he became bigger than me when he was 3 and I was 6, and I was never able to look down at him again. Yes, he may be 3 years younger, but he’s a good foot taller.

Life with a little brother can be interesting sometimes. Mine wanted to go everywhere I did, which is aggravating when you want to go to a slumber party with your friends. He was fascinated with fire for a while, and I lost two sets of pompoms because of it. He always loved to build things, and he learned to use a hammer by hitting me in the head with one.

Brother and I were close growing up. One day we’d play with his Matchbox cars or Tonka trucks by building elaborate roads in the driveway. That meant the next day would bring my choice of toys, and I usually chose Barbies. He never quite got the hang of Barbies, though. He usually had his G.I. Joe hang Ken and then kidnap Barbie by tying her to a Jeep or something. Ken’s head never stayed on like it should have after that, and Barbie’s hair didn’t grow back, no matter how much I wished.

I learned to sew by repairing a little boy’s favorite teddy bear. I made clothes for Buzzy the Bear to hide the scars he earned by being well loved. Brudder helped me stay thin by eating faster and then stealing the food off my plate. I didn’t finish a meal until I moved into my own place.

He was never a morning person, and sometimes he wasn’t an afternoon one either. He cried when Bambi’s mother died, named every chicken we had Jody, and once named a calf after a girl he thought was cute.  (And she was flattered!)

In spite of all of his flaws, my baby brother grew up to be a fine man. He raised some wonderful children and now grandfathers eight, soon to be nine. He’s loving, faithful, and a darned good cook. I’m proud of him. Those early decades were a little rough on me, but I guess I’ll keep him now.

Happy Birthday, Michael McCormick! I love you!