Sibling Rivalry

As many of you may know, we have recently (and very proudly) reached 100 fans on Facebook! To those baby boomers reading, this might be Greek to you, but think of it as our own little Red Hat Society. In order to get those last few people onboard, we started to offer incentives such as the previous two blogs, but kept a highly coveted prize for #100... your own blog entry.

Well, here it is #100, your very own epic, we hope you aren't disappointed (since you live with us and we'll have to hear you griping)....

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My brother. He's the smart guy whose shadow I've been attempting to escape for a quarter century. He's the man who comes home to our hostel hostile just looking for some peace and quiet. He's my car-loving, boredom-hating, goofy older brother who has for the first time in our lives claimed to be my "fan."

Neil (Neily Dan), as his friends call him, but "Boog" to us insiders, is a stand up guy who just wants the simple things in life: a dog, a girl who makes him pie and a garage. Growing up together was always interesting, never dull, and full of enough drama to fill at least one season of Grey's Anatomy. Neil was an awesome older bro who never failed to pull me back up hills on my sled, stay out till dark playing Horse with me and letting me spell it with extra letters, pimping out my pink Huffy for me or scheming with me a new way to make money.

We would have made Donald Trump's children look like slackers. Among the many jobs my brother and I had we've sold Kool-Aid and brownies roadside, both had paper routes (he claims mine was better... and it was!), invented a household newspaper that we charged our parents to read, even picked our own corn at a local farm and hiked up the price to rip off drivers by. Through it all we always managed to get along.

Despite our camaraderie we always were vying for the top child position. Sure, he was the first born, but come ON, they must have thought they could improve so voila! Me! We swapped back and forth, taking turns at being the good child for years. He was a smarty pants and I was the artsy slacker. He went into mechanical engineering and I majored in basketweaving. Well, if you ask him, that's what I got my degree in. Neil enjoyed likening ourselves to those old school Highlights duo, Goofus and Gallant. To those young fans: Highlights was a magazine. Here's a picture of our beloved friends:

Goofus was the bad son, he always went down the wrong path and was most definitely headed straight for hell. Gallant was the obviously better child who did everything by the book and most likely received countless wedgies at school. Growing up, Neil was Gallant.

That is, until a few years ago when he realized Goofus had a lot more fun. Neil started living the life he never had and made me look like a golden child. Thanks Neil! It was a win win for all, and I'd like to honor this change of heart with a photo essay depicting our sibling rivalry at its finest.