Tales of Wit and Charm…

Dear Ben,

Happy Birthday!  I know I don’t tell you this enough but I love you Ben.  You’ve always been an extraordinary brother to me.  I don’t deserve you, but I’m sure as hell happy I got you anyway.

You have so many great qualities, but luckily for me one of your best traits is forgiveness.  I don’t think most people know that about you.  I do, however, because despite the below list you still love me.

I’m sorry I made you wear a pink shirt when you got home from your mission.
I’m sorry for constantly trying to get you killed when you were a child.
I’m sorry I made you peanut butter and spicy salsa sandwiches every time I was forced to babysit you.
I’m sorry for swearing in your mission farewell talk.
I’m sorry I told everyone we know you always cry in the movie “The Land Before Time.”
I’m sorry I just told the Internet that you cry in the movie “The Land Before Time.”
I’m sorry I called you Benjaminoballbaby when you were a kid.
I’m sorry I called you Benjaminoball-less when you were a kid.
I’m sorry for calling you Ben-gina when you were a kid…. and last week.
I’m sorry for teaching the twins to call you Uncle Mean.
I’m sorry for teaching the twins, just yesterday, to call you Auntie Uncle Ben.

You’re an incredible person, Ben.  I’m so proud to be able to call you my brother.  You grew up from the cutest little dimple-faced boy into the amazing man you are now.  I love you baby brother.

Love,

Sissy

A repeat from last year.  Not good enough for you?  TOO BAD!  My silly tattoo only comes in handy once a year.

I’m headed to the country to celebrate my country’s independence by watching cars wreck into one another. While I’m gone please don’t blow yourself up with fireworks! Unless I’m in the will, then by all means. I kid, I kid… Happy 4th!!

Last night I carefully set out the four pairs of green shoes I own, so that I would have a variety of green to choose from this morning. And somehow I still managed to forget it was St. Patty’s day and wear my purple, polka-dot velvet shoes. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts.

They send my brothers on missions. Chady-bear turns 20 tomorrow and I can’t see him because he’s in a foreign country serving God or something. And to make matters worse it’s against the rules to phone him.

Valentine’s Day dinner looked beautiful on the plate, however, later that night it didn’t look so pretty coming back up. It’s interesting that no one else got sick from the meal. And by “interesting” I mean ARLO IS TRYING TO KILL ME!

He’s got plenty of justifiable reasons to want me dead. In fact, the whole thing is rather ironic. Just yesterday, some friends and I were talking about how much grief I give Arlo. We agreed that if he did indeed kill me, no jury in the world would convict him. I’d like to think the reason he attempted to poison me wasn’t necessarily due to the fact I force him to watch bad reality TV with me, or the fact I tease him mercilessly, but because I burned the one portion of the dinner I was in charge of:

1) Sleeping in ten extra minutes, because there is no need to shave my legs.

2) My panties and bra don’t have to match.

3) I have a reason to listen to the Eels “Love of the Loveless” over, and over all day long.

4) The only flowers in my house are ones I’ve purchased myself, so there will be no sneezing due to allergies this year.

5) I don’t have to wear perfume, unless I want to.

6) No one is going to drag me to a steak house thinking I’ll be impressed, and then remember ten minutes into the meal I don’t eat steak.

7) The only gifts purchased for the holiday are those for myself.

I don’t have to try and have dainty girl eating habits at dinner tonight. I can pig out on Valentine’s Day candy and no one will care.

10) And best of all, I get to spend the evening with friends watching “Rock of Love” on Tivo. Though, if Arlo meets someone and falls in love within the next eight hours my evening is ruined.