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Brother: Our Clowning Jewel

You came home, a bundle swaddled in blue, an instant pride-and-joy. Born into a family of three sisters, a novelty, the best toy ever, a living doll. You had to endure endless kisses, your feet never touching the ground, and ridiculous nicknames.

You grew.

You taught us that spaghetti is acceptable as a full body rub, beware of ice cream cones in an accelerating car, and McDonald's cheeseburgers are a sedative. As an adorable towhead, you were all boy in spite of being Mama's boy. Puppy dogs, worms, and bugs held magnetic appeal, and all the better to chase girl siblings.

And grew.

Peanut butter and mayonnaise makes a great sandwich filling, Pacman cupcakes are popular among cub scouts, and baloney sticks to the ceiling up until Mom walks through the door. Little brothers are attractive nuisances, cute as can be until one brings a boyfriend home.

And grew.

Farts are effective weapons, particularly in sneak attacks, and up close. If you tell Mom that she smells like roses, you get lots of fringe benefits, like Pepsi, Slim Jims, and candy. If you're about to get in trouble, blame it on any or all of your sisters, you'll probably be rewarded with a bomb pop.

Thank God you grew out of that, I wouldn't have wanted to be jailed for murder.

Bah ha ha! Seriously, you were different but you were and are fun!

I love you Jimmy.

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