Siblings

I love my brother. He makes me insane, but I love him. Ahh...siblings. No one gets you like a sibling, and no one gets to you like a sibling. For instance, this past spring, I had had it up to here with my brother's failure to call me back. Everyone in the Sugg clan hates phones, but he was taking it to unprecedented levels. I was plotting angry speeches that would make him feel spectacularly guilty (right). So what does he do? Shows up at the house unannounced and says "Gee, I thought I'd just drop off these Golden Jubilee tomato plants that I bought for you. Since they had Mer's name in them, I thought you'd like to have them." Wow. Sweet, thoughtful, unexpected. Brother. [Mom, no cheesy comments allowed.]

To this day, my brother still makes me laugh harder than anyone else, and he doesn't even have to try. And it's always nice to be with him in a group, because invariably we'll notice the same things, raise our eyebrows at the same things, and laugh at the same things. Just because it's so weird, I'll share something we used to laugh about when we would spend the night on the trundle beds in his room. Anything could set us off, and I loved to go back and hit on the things that I knew would tickle him--certain words and phrases. He would beg me to say them again and again, and then laugh til he cried. So we started a list, and we would say the whole list before going to sleep (usually following my mom or dad's exasperated visit to the room where we were told to be quiet immediately or suffer the wrath). So we would say the list together, trying not to laugh so loud we got in trouble. This is for posterity--don't expect to get the jokes. Although, really, the word pastrami is pretty funny.

Pastrami, salami, mayonnaise, jacuzzi, 4041, 4042, sheep, contact, harty-har-har, rump, bump, goodnight.


That's how it went. Enough sentimentality. The point is, siblings are great. And I'm really glad that Meredith is going to have one, round about April.