Stress the “happy.” My brothers are not very happy about birthdays. I think this is ludicrous since there is only one way to not have a birthday.
Anyway, DG is my younger brother, which means I have many fond memories of us torturing each other. When my father called to tell me I had a little brother, I hung up on him because I was counting on a little sister I could dress up in my doll clothes. I suppose I still could have done that, but that would have been creepy. Even an 8-year-old knows that.
There was a time that I decided to dress him up like a rich, preppy toddler. We were going to
DG was the prodigy of the family and his kindergarten teacher used to call him “the old man” because he had a huge vocabulary and used to come out with insightful comments while the rest of the class were picking their noses and learning not to eat paste. One time he found this rusty old bicycle that was basically a pile of junk and used parts from another bicycle to put on it, so basically we now had two piles of junk.
Another interesting thing about
I have a picture of him dressed as a pilgrim, picking up a log next to a mimosa tree. He did this of his own accord. We don’t know why. After that all the pictures of him feature him running away because he wouldn’t let us take his picture anymore.
So sometimes he’s strange. But he’s usually a normal nice guy. Don’t be frightened.
Oh. He’s started allowing his picture to be taken.