At least that's how I spell it. On my lunch break (you know, the ones where I've already eaten, so I use them to run errands), I called my brother just to see if he was around. Lo and behold, he was! That, my friend, is a rare occurrence. (I say "friend" because today I actually have a follower. It's a big day.)
My phone informed me after we hung up that we'd talked for a full 27 minutes. That's enough time to make a Mama jealous. Perhaps I won't share that with her? (And no, this is not my phone. I got it here.)
These are just a few reasons why I love my brother:
- Once you get him going, he just talks and talks and talks. I love it.
- He's really good at making friends in all sorts of places. I remember going to the beach as a kid an he'd have five friends within two minutes.
- He's incredibly smart and well read, but he doesn't come across as a know-it-all. He just has all these random facts in his head that he pulls out whenever the time is right. It's really amazing.
- When he was home for Christmas, we had great time catching up at Chip's Hamburgers. Even though he somehow forgot to bring his wallet that day (how convenient).
- That same night, he came over for dinner and stayed for two hours to chat with me and my roomie. He even tried to build a fire. I determined that it was not the builder that was the problem, but the logs. Hey, at least he tried.
Ok, I think that's enough sappy-ness for today on here. But I just thought the world wide web would want to know.
Adios for now.
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