Having an Older Brother

My brother Mike turned 40 this past Saturday. He was born on Friday the 13th and weighed 7 lbs and 7 ozs. Not that I was there since he is soooo much older than me.

For most of his four decades on this earth where we overlapped he was the sterotypical big brother. Six years my senior, he would steal my food, pull my hair, tell me I was adopted (our older sister told me my "real" name was Sally Petunia and our parents found me on a street corner as a baby). It didn't help that they both looked a like and I had curly hair with a face full of freckles.

Some of the most memorable forms of torture involved tying me up in my rocking chair when I was eight with my own jump rope. I vividly remember calling my Mom at work every day in the summer crying and being convinced if I didn't wipe my tears she would be able to see them four hours later.

It was also about this time that I learned first head hand what a swirly was thanks to my big brother. For those of you who don't have siblings, that involves holding a very cute and innocent younger sibling's head over the toilet bowl and flushing.

A lot of these memories of torture came out on Saturday night at his house. For those of you don't frequent this blog we obviously all get along now and spend a lot of time together. Mike mainly comes over to eat our food and drink our food.


Also at the party were our friends Laura and Jay who we haven't really seen since playing cornhole in their backyard. Jay recently shaved off his mustache and we think he looks so much younger. (Here's a photo from the Woodstock party this summer.)

I met Jay after working with his sister "Dr. Terri" who has twins a little older than Troy. He wasn't happy about having a little sister either and as kids would torture her in a variety of ways including running her over with his bicycle.

Do you have any stories of torture between you and your siblings?