Happy Birthday BBA

On this day many, many, many years ago my middle brother, BBA, was born. Naturally his life would not be complete or worth remembering until his little sister (me) was born a few years later but it was still a momentous occasion. No one knew then that this annoying baby (him not me) would someday grow up to be the not so terrible, vaguely tolerable, and all around semi-decent human being that we all know today.

As older brothers go, BBA was as good a kid a sister could ask for. He beat me up on a semi-regular basis but stopped short of breaking bones or leaving obvious bruises. He let me cut up his treasured comic books when I was late on an assignment and needed visual aids and then chose not to notice that I wasn’t as grateful as I probably should have been. He didn’t throw me out of the car when I inadvertently ate his half of a Big Mac the time he picked me up from riding class. And best of all, when I called just to say hi because I felt homesick at university, his first thought was to offer me bail money.

For all the nice things you did growing up and all the nice things I’m sure you have yet to do:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BBA!!!