My oldest brother turned 16 last month, and today he starts his first job, making pizzas. It reminds me of when I had my first job at a restaurant called Perkins, with an enormous flag out front; this same kid was a little baby then, and every time he saw a large flag he would exclaim, "PARKINS!"

Now he has a job of his own. *sniffle, sob*

I was 12 when he was born, and it seems like only last week he weighed just over five pounds and he was curled up all sleeping and pink in the hospital bassinet, when I first met him. Now he's 6'4", he likes blondes, and he's got a job.

For some reason this is REALLY affecting me emotionally. I'm not sure why. I just want to cry and hug him and ruffle his hair, but I can't reach that high anymore. I wish he wasn't 1000 miles away. I really love that damn kid. He's a great guy and I'm proud of him.