Facebook told me that today is National Sibling Day and that Cambridge Analytica stole all my personal data. Seems like a day to celebrate!
Basically, I have the two best siblings in the world, and no one can disagree. So there. I was the youngest by a few years, so I was equally parts spoiled and annoying. Mostly, family folklore says I was annoying. My earliest childhood memories include being dangled over the banister by Doug and struggling for breath as I suffocated (nearly) to death in the toy box. I had apparently gone TOO FAR, so he emptied out every. single. toy and then shoved me in and sat on the lid. I fully blame him for my claustrophobia and greatest fear of being buried alive. (I could also maybe blame the Days of Our Lives storyline in which Carly was buried alive by Vivian. But then we would have to also blame my mother for letting me watch DOOL at such a young age.) I'm guessing Brenda was equally annoyed by me. On the night of her junior prom, I was delegated the essential task of taking the traditional photo of Brenda and Rich (now her husband of over 20 years!) in front of the fireplace. Mom and Dad were already at the high school prepping for their chaperone duties. I, however, was clearly (and justifiably) angry that earlier that same day Brenda had refused to let me sleep in her full-size bed that night. Instead I would be forced to suffer another night in my comfortable twin bed that was just the right size for me. So because I was so deservedly angry, I posed Brenda and Rich in front of the mantle and snapped the photo. This was the pre-digital era, so imagine their surprise when they picked up the printed photos a week later to realize that I had snapped the perfect photo....from the neck down. I'd like to say that I got better with age, but that doesn't seem to be the case. When I was a freshman in college, I spent a month in Paris studying the language and culture. And also the male German tourists and the wine. Doug and Brenda drove several hours to retrieve me from the airport in Chicago. I spent the first six hours of the trip sobbing uncontrollably in the backseat because I was so desperate to return to the beautiful language and culture. And also to the male German tourists and the wine. I was an inconsolable mess of "I DON'T WANNA GO HOME!" So because they truly cared about my cultural development, they planned stops at the boyhood home of Ronald Reagan and the birthplace of John Deere. While I may not have been excited at the time, today I can look back with gratitude that I had these essential experiences in American history. (Excuse the photo quality. This was still the pre-digital age.) Despite my annoying tendencies, my siblings are two of my best friends today. Doug took me to a Billy Joel concert where I cried like a baby during "Piano Man." I can also attribute my uncanny knowledge about Larry Bird to Doug. He played the trumpet when I walked down the aisle, he routinely provides free medical advice, and he sends the best texts about our shared love of podcasts. (Give Revisionist History and Heavyweight a listen.) He loves me and my husband and my kids, and he makes a mean gin and tonic. Basically, he's the best. Brenda (a.k.a. B) brought her firstborn to visit me in my tiny studio apartment in Cedar Falls where we watched classic musicals on DVD. She sings the best harmonies to the Indigo Girls on roads trips, and she didn't even freak out when I cried at her 40th birthday party because post-adoptive depression is REAL. When I told her we were thinking about moving to Saint Paul, she didn't complain for one second but instead, in the fashion of our Grandma Dorothy, she encouraged and supported us every step of the way. Basically, she's the best. So today I raise a glass to Doug and Brenda. We don't always get to choose our family, but seriously these two are my #1 pick! (I'll write a blog for Cambridge Analytica some other day.)
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September 2020
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