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Dear Sibling(s)

Letter Challenge Day Four – My Sibling(s???)

This says to write a letter to my sibling or closest relative. You know, in case I don’t have any siblings, they want to give me options. Heh. Heh. Hehhehehehe…

So which of the nine–like the rrring wrrraithes–should I choose for this post? Or should I just throw you all together like a lump of chocolate chips in a batch of cookie dough? I don’t want anyone feeling left out… I’ll do it like this:

Dear Ethan,

How long have you been seventeen? Answer: too long. It’s time to be a man. You use Old Spice now, so turn eighteen and be the man you know you smell like. Isaiah Mustafa. Be him. Bring honor to our family. You’re a wonderful friend and brother when you aren’t forcing your very strong opinions on others. Be smooth… subtle… like, like a swan! ;) That’s all the advice I have for you right now. I love watching random crap with you, coming up with ridiculous scenarios for totally mundane things, going on day trips, blasting pop songs in the car, and saving the galaxy together with Carth and Bastila. I’m glad you’ve seen the light and agree that Celtic Thunder is insanely awesome. It’s so great when you make me food. Will you make me pancakes?


Right now you’re pretty much consumed with the advances of your pixel lives. I don’t even know you anymore. Who are you?? Do you have a personality? Just kidding. :P You have this droll, almost tired kind of voice, but you come up with the cleverest things sometimes and I quote you a lot. Yes; I. Quote. You. You’re the easiest person to tease. I love that you mock me for my short stature because you’re the perfect height for me to headbutt in the chest. BOOYAH!


You’re funny, but you know, looks aren’t everything. ;P Kidding. I love you, boy. You’re a huge help to Mum and me, and because of your cooking skills, I get to be lazier than ever! Thanks for being such a great big brother to all the little ones. Thanks too, for always being the first (other than Ethan) to demand a hug from me. I’m gonna run out to the other room and hug you RIGHT NOW! Um, you’re awesome. Last thing I’m gonna say.


So, hey buddy! What’s up? I don’t talk with you much, but that’s probably because you talk to much cooler people like Owen and Benjamin–or not at all. I want to do school with you again! Can I be your teacher from now on? You were really stubborn and hated doing English last year, but you also listened to my bossy lectures and then did your work! (Eventually.) That was awesome. Let’s do it again sometime really soon, okay?


I’m so wowed by your reading skills! I absolutely adore the things you write me; like the letter you gave me right before I left for Europe and the journal of all the things you did while I was gone. I’ll treasure them forever. They’re so sweet and amazing! I’ve been pushing a lot of chores onto you lately, but it’s only because I honestly think you’re capable of doing them. Okay, part of it is because I don’t want to do the work myself, but seriously, you can do it. :) The fashion shows you put on with the two littlest girls are… well, they’re terrible, but I know that’s the point and it makes me laugh.


Mah man! It’s cool how you come in and tell me all kinds of stuff about the things you find outside or the jokes you make with Austin. Don’t stop doing that. Even when I don’t look like I’m paying attention, I really am, and I like it a lot. It’s good that even when you’re mean to the girls, you’re pretty quick to come back and ask their forgiveness. I know they can be pests, but don’t forget that the older boys think of you that way sometimes. Be kind to them and they’ll be kind to you.


I’m sorry you’ve been sick so much and I’m praying for you to be all better. You have such a huge grin all the time and nothing ever seems to make you sad for very long. You’re like a jumping beetle, only you’re cute. ;) Sometimes you’re crazy loud and bouncy and it drives me nuts, but I love your sunny smile.


Oh boy. If I had a dime for every time you got into something and made me pull my hair out in exasperation, it wouldn’t matter because you’d sweet talk me into giving you the money anyway. Grandpa named you well when he christened you “Cowboy.” You’re such a trouble-making, girl-charming, handsome little scoundrel. One minute you have me yelling, infuriated at you, and the next I’m a puddle of melted goop. What am I going to do with you and your adorable blonde-boy hair, eh?


Diva. Gigi. Geeva-Dee. You give wonderful cuddles. I love listening to you form sentences. I try so hard to teach all the kids how to speak properly, but when you say things like “da-doo” for “thank you” and “Bet-da-nee” for “Bethany” how can I correct that? I can’t. I don’t want to. Little squirt; I love ya lots and lots and lots. You’re the only sibling in my memory who asks to be changed, likes to be washed, and tells us when you’re tired and then goes right to sleep.

To all of you minions character building blood relations who are all youngsters compared to me: Hug hug, kiss kiss, hug hug, big kiss, little hug, kiss kiss, little kiss,



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