Today, my youngest brother turns 21, that final stepping stone to adulthood. I remember when I turned 21. My birthday was on a Saturday, and I spent the whole weekend drunk. Drunk with my friends. Drunk in casinos with my family. I can't say that I don't have fond memories of that weekend.
Unfortunately, for my brother, his birthday falls on a Tuesday. He has class, and responsibilities. However, he is that one person in my life for whom I have no problem buying presents. He and I, as much as I hate to admit it, are practically the same person as far as tastes go. This birthday, he's getting apple pie flavored vodka that features a pinup girl on the label, and a book. Also, as much booze as he can drink. This is a right of passage, remember?
But, better yet, I've already started shopping for his Christmas present. I think the boy is getting a pair of wooden training swords for Christmas. I've already gotten him the real deal, but I refuse to spar with them. I value my life. Now, like for his 21st birthday, the most important part is the doing of the thing. That means I'm going to be required to spar with the boy with the two wooden swords. I've already started planning. I have a full set of catchers gear (Thank you, high school softball.), and I need to get some sort of hand guards.
I'm thirty, he's 21. This cannot possibly go well. That said, I'm still going to do it. Maybe I'll just get him drunk first.
Happy birthday, little brother.
P.S. Internet, don't let the Christmas present cat out of the bag.
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