“Dogtown” – Paxton, IL
Guys. YOU GUYS. This has been the most anticipated blog post of the year. My baby brother is a SENIOR. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?! He’s your typical senior guy, so I’m going to try and keep the sappy stuff to a minimum and I’m also using this blog post to wish him a happy birthday today. But some days, I can’t help it!
It doesn’t seem like that long ago when he was born. His birth was a scary one. Born two months (to the day) early, he was this tiny, scrawny, little baby hooked up to so many wires that my seven year old mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that I couldn’t touch him in that plastic box. Born at three pounds and some odd ounces, he was fragile, but he was strong. He quickly grew, and even surpassed the doctors expectations. I remember around the age that we was not only meeting the “standard” growth charts but exceeding them. It was also around that time in his life when he’d let me bribe him with candy and allow me to dress him up in my dresses (boobs and all) and put makeup on him. I have photo proof if you’d like to see! He eventually wised up and had enough of the dress up, and before I knew it, he was a grown-ass-man. No longer is he the dainty little baby in the box, nor the high-pitch-voiced kid I remember, but he’s tall, strong, and pretty dang handsome if you ask me. No makeup required. He’s also one of my best friends, regardless of the “you’re-family-so-I-have-to-love-you” status. Alright, that’s enough with the sappy stuff since I can’t see my keyboard through the tears anymore. So Mitch, happy birthday bro, I love you, and I am so very proud of you, especially in your senior year.