Blogiversary

My blog is officially one year old! Special thanks again to Sue and Cheryl for nudging me to start blogging. After a year of blogging I’ve learned that I still have nothing of note to say. But thanks for stopping by and reading anyway. Today’s blog entry will be a story I’ve told over and over but never blogged about. Now it will live in infamy:

Little brothers were born to be picked on by big sisters. I took my job as big sister seriously and was good at that aspect. Relentless and constant. Plus, my little brother had two big sisters to pick on him. Doubly blessed that one.
As adults we are supposed to be beyond all that. But somehow I could never think of him as a mature adult, making decisions in a responsible and reasonable manner. Until the day we walked into a t-shirt shop at South Padre Island…
Shortly after Cheryl had Tyler my brother brought Dillon, then two years old, to the beach when I was there. We walked into a t-shirt shop and immediately my giant brother got down on one knee, eye level to my nephew and said, “I need you to keep your hands to yourself while we’re in this shop. There are lots of little trinkets and shiny objects that I know little boys want to touch and play with; but I need you to put your hands in your pockets, don’t touch anything, and stay close to me while we are here.” My nephew put his hands in his pockets and skipped behind my brother shopping for t-shirts.
I almost cried right then and there. My little brother had grown up and was a great dad and didn’t need my teasing or pranks.
Nana nana boo boo.