Things I've Learned: From My Brother

I have a habit of saying that my brother Jason was seven years older than me. He still is seven years older than me, and unless something epic happens within the space-time continuum and two alternate universes which take place in different, yet not so far apart years converge, he will always be seven years older than me.

Being that he was so much older than me, we weren't the best of friends when I was young, but that didn't mean we didn't spend any quality time together. I learned a lot from my big brother during my time as the annoying little sister.

Things I've Learned From My Brother:

"If you can't play with the big dogs, get off of the porch."
When your brother (who is twice your age at the time) says "Let me teach you how to wrestle," you should probably decline. It almost always ends up with someone getting hurt. Of all the times that someone was hurt, it was me. As I whined or cried, Jason would inevitably tell me, every time, "Hey, if you can't play with the big dogs, get off the porch."

A reenactment of my childhood.

"Ain't nobody home but the Fat Boys."
Teenagers sleep a lot and younger siblings are often sent to wake them up. There were a number of times that I disturbed Jason mid-dream just enough that he'd sleep-talk. (We're a family of sleep-talkers, so this happened a lot.)  From Jason, I learned that you can fix anything with a hammer, screwdriver, wrench and a sandwich, and also that the Fat Boys were the only ones home.

Hold on and don't look at the speedometer. 
If there's one thing my brother likes, it's to go fast. If there's a second thing my brother likes, it's to take someone with him and go fast. If there's a third thing my brother likes, it's to take someone with him who is afraid to go fast and go fast. I always agree to go and I'm not really sure why.

This is what I look like when I go fast.

"He's sitting on the stairs, crying."
When my tween-aged brother's friend rode to our house on his bicycle and asked what Jason was doing, I quickly learned to not be so specific.

Late 80's/Early 90s Fashion
I learned most of my fashion expertise as a child from my mom, but there were two things I learned from Jason: how to french-cuff my jeans and how he used gel and coming his hair in the wrong direction to spike his hair.

Mulletous Jason, my dad wearing dress shoes at a picnic and my fabulous mother. 

And miscellaneous little things:

He taught me how to cross my eyes.

And how to share? Okay, maybe not.

He taught me how to photobomb in front of the subject.

He taught me how to play with the big dogs, for realz.

And how to use both background curtains in the mall photo booth. (This was a big deal.)

He taught me how to coordinate. (image credit: Noble Images)

Over the years I've learned a lot from my brothers. More recently, that while the distance and the time between visits can be difficult, I've learned that it has yet to hurt our relationship.

I love you, man, and I'm so glad that you finally weigh more than me are my big brother.