The Brother I Never Had

Yeah, I know... I really do have a brother. But with twelve years between us, (I got married the day before he got baptized) we don't have a ton of shared brother/sister experiences.  We share a lot of similar interests, and we've been friends our whole lives.  If I want an interesting discussion, a partner in creativity, or a game rival, I'll go straight to him.  But this post isn't about him. 

This one is about the brother I didn't have.  That brother who teased and picked on but quietly protected me.  Who called me names but was also the first one there if I needed him.  Who I had every reason to love and hate at the same time.

Who knew that when my sister married Skye, I'd be getting just that brother?

He doesn't call me Andrea.  In fact, I am listed as "Fatty" in his cell phone, and the ringtone he set for me is, "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead."  He has - on more than one occassion - tackled me and pinned me to the ground until I scream.  But he also ends phone conversations with, "I love you," and I know he means it.

I'm proud of him for working hard at his job in Boise and providing for his family.  But I hate that he lives there and not here.  It was so fun to see him during their brief visit in June.  Especially when I discovered that he'd let Michelle's friend paint his toenails, and they were the exact color mine were painted.

 Oh, and did I mention he can do backflips?  (But I apparently can't get a decent picture of one.  He tried 3 times, and all I got was "take-off" and "landing" pics.)

Skye and I were meant to be brother and sister.  Thanks, Michelle, for marrying him!