Today I went to my parents house to load up and take yet another load of stuff to my house. I swear I think my junk is multiplying. My little brother took a big load to consignment in his truck. I had never ridden in his truck so I went along, well, he didn't want to haul all my junk by himself either. It was then that I realized: my brother has grown up. It was a shock. This sudden cold splash of water. I opened up the truck door and there was a towel on his seat. Now, I realize this does not seem like a great testimony to maturity, but I'll explain. My dad likes to keep things nice. He HATES for his truck to get dirty. To keep the seats clean he has a beach towel (my beach towel thank you very much) across the seats. It is now quite possibly, the most threadbare, sun bleached towel in the state but the molecules that once united to make thread to make the towel still protect the seat. Now my little bro was...a rough child. He tore up things just to see if he could fix them, often he couldn't. We started telling him that one day he would have things and we would come jump on/drill/scratch them. So seeing him protect something of his own is kinda a big deal. The second thing was watching him load the truck. He does it Just like my dad. The way he loads, the way he mutters about stuff flying out, all of it is a smaller version of my father. Then, this little kid (I mean he has to be like 6, right, Right???), got in his truck and drove me around, talking about work he wanted to do on it. I always think of him at this age:
But it turns out he is all grown up. It's kind of bittersweet. He's looking at colleges. He can appreciate the satire of Monty Python. He can pick me up. Happy and sad. He's pretty much the bestest brother a girl could ever hope to have.
This was me getting a rare moment of cuddling just a few days before my wedding. He's the coolest, especially when he still let's me hug him.