It's my brother Jeff's birthday.
He's old.
Seriously, old.
Actually, since he's only a year younger than me, I can't really call him old, because that would be calling myself old. And I am not...Old.
Here are a few random facts about Jeffy...
My brother:
-is handy with a scalpel
- worships Metallica - and Barry Manilow. Yes, my brother is a complex man.
- tolerated my pinching, pushing and murder attempts from ages 1-5
- loves Taco Johns, like any good North Dakotan
- once knew Glenda the Good Witch
- plays a mean trumpet
- was in Jazz Band, Student Government, Track, Theater, Speech Team, Varsity Band, Concert Band, etc. etc.
- has no hair, partly by choice, partly by genes
- hosts Burger House many times a year - yum!
- taught and encourages my grandma to swear like a sailor
- greets me with a random kick or punch, as I do him (we will forever be 8 yrs old)
- meows when he answers the phone
- operated on insurgents in Iraq, and is a BADASS
- is an accomplished orthopaedic surgeon, and works for SLU
- would do anything for his family, and on many occasions has done so
- drives the biggest, baddest black truck (even though it's currently undergoing major surgery at an area dealership because Jeff is a BADASS)
- started the Dirty Santa trend
- worked at Bonanza, starting as a busser and working his way up to head of the grill
- just rocks.
Jeff is amazing. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful brother. While growing up, we fought. A lot. But we grew out of that, and I'm glad he lives here now, because now that we do get along and like each other, I would miss him if he wasn't close by.
Below is one of his favorite songs. Jeff, this one's for you.
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