Wednesday, January 19, 2011


i'm really fortunate because I only have one brother ... no, seriously, I mean that in the best way possible. I don't have to share him with any siblings and he doesn't have to remember to love up on anyone


I will admit that things weren't always a bed of roses where our relationship is concerned. I will perhaps also admit that it was pretty much always my fault.
I'm the baby; what can I say?
like the time he set up an uber cool official politically incorrect Indian tent up in the backyard and I was strickly ordered to stay out but I, naturally, did not. in my defense I was younger than eight so that automatically rules out any fault on my part. my mom has pictures to show my brother pointing fingers at me in one scene, me running out of said tent in the next. classic kristina

then there were all those summers he was supposed to technically babysit me but would say things like:
kris, come up to the top bunk and check out the colours of this kitten"s eyes ... they are so cool!
(by the time I got up to the top bunk eric and gary were long gone)
or: kris, go inside and find out what time it is so we know how long we can keep playing tag for
(by the time I got back outside the yard was suspiciously devoid of "others")

there was also the time that I kept pushing the buttons on steve austin's exploding briefcase so that the mechanisms broke and it wouldn't go back to "not exploded" and I just put it back in his closet and didn't say a word. he got mad.
where was the grace there, huh?

or how about the time he hid a hair in his doorway so he would know that I had gone into his room after he had closed the door and specifically told me to stay out
(in my defense, he had an Indiana Jones replica hat that I just had to try on)
or the days before central air, when we would sleep on cots in the cool basement but I would never stop talking so mom would come downstairs, threatening to send whoever was making the trouble back upstairs to sleep in the heat and I always pretended to be little and cute and asleep so it was never me that got sent back up to my room.

don't feel too bad, though. he got me back by playing games he made up like: "digging for gold", meant to cure me of claustrophobia, involving me in a sleeping bag, him sitting on the opening, swearing that there was gold to be found at the zipped up end if I would stay digging long enough; or, "fart in the box", involving me in an empty refrigerator box, him farting then closing the opening; the classic "hide the cookie until kris is done eating hers then slowly bring yours out from under the couch cushion and eat it in front of her, dramatically" and "slide the kleenex box under kris' butt just as she sits down in the car"

Hasbro had nothing on my brother.

we didn't really become friends-friends until I was a minor niner and he was a mighty grade thirteen. after that year, he moved off to the big city and we didn't see each other as much, but he told me about good books to read, amazing music to listen to, fantastic food to try and other useful things like apologetics, poetry, philosopy and general esoteric thinking.
I may or may not have become slightly less bratty by that time.
when I went off to university, I took the bus to stay over, on weekends, so I could go to concerts, meet his friends, walk around the city and learn how to be cool (or at least try).
then I got married and eric gained someone reasonable finally a brother
and it has all come full circle ...
'cause I gave birth to two boys who are

i love my brudder


Anonymous said...

I didn't realize at the time how much of everything this one photo captures. Surprisingly sans-food, however.

Neal said...

brother e