My brother, Bubba

As you can see, he was incredibly excited to be having his picture taken. He's even showing me some single finger love. Oh, Bubba, you're an awesome little brother. ;-)

Well, I was relating a story the other day to a friend of mine about when Bubba and I were younger and I thought you'd enjoy a chuckle or two or three.

My grandparents would often come out to our house on the weekend and we I would beg nonstop to go and spend the night at their house. Well, I was a typial big sister and I used to pick on the kid nonstop. I'd say we were about 5 and 3 at the time of this particular "incident". I would poke him and he'd say, "Stop it, Sissy". I'd poke him again and he'd say, "STOP IT, Sissy!". I'd poke him again, just for the sheer fun of seeing him turn red, and he'd scream at me, "STOP IT, SISSY!! I MEANEDED IT!!!!!" Usually this is where I'd stop, cause I know I'd pushed him to his limit. But this one day, at my grandparents house, I decided to push the envelope. Be a rebel. Go for the gusto. Win one for the Gipper. Go where no man had gone before. So I poked him again. I don't think I've ever see a kid that red before. The next thing I know, Bubba's gone and picked up a croquet mallet - we'd been playing croquet in the front yard. Before I can get my 5 yr old wits about me, he's whacked me over the head and yelled one more time, just for good measure, "I SAID I MEANEDED IT!!!!!". Of course I screamed bloody murder and my grandmother, my Nannie, came running. I am sure she was holding back the giggles as I'm sure we were quite a sight. She promptly went to tending the pump knot that was forming on my head. I even have a photo to memorialize it. She got an ice pack....one of those old fashioned ones that was a cloth bag and a screw top....and tied it on my head with a scarf. Being the comedienne that my Nannie was, she then took a picture of me and Bubba, with our arms around each other, and him holding that darn croquet mallet. Wouldn't you know, Bubba was grinning like a Cheshire Cat and I look like I've been on a three day crying jag. That was the day that Bubba got the best of me. It would be many more years though before I finally wised up and started to leave him alone to run like like a crazy person after I've pummeled him a bit.

Bubba, Happy 33rd Birthday - a little belated.