Today is my brother Ryan's 29th birthday (the real one).  Since Ryan is in Jamaica over his birthday, and I haven't sent a gift yet, I thought we could just talk here.  Ryan, here's what I'd say if I called you today:

Some words of thanks
Thanks for being such a good brother.  Like the times that you picked me up when my car broke down, ran out of gas, or my purse was stolen and I needed a ride to the police station.  Thanks for knowing when, knowing how, and being willing to change my kids diapers.  Thanks for buying me my first video, "Pretty In Pink", my all time favorite.  Thanks for being the kind of kid who would call into the radio station and request "Livin' in a box" and ask to have it dedicated to our cat.  Thanks for showing me how to really throw a party - until I went to a keg party at your house, I'd never considered covering the whole house in cardboard so that no cleaning would be required the next day.  Brilliant.  Thanks for setting the standard for how big a pork chop should be.  Thanks for picking Carrie, she's a terrific addition to our family. 

Some apologies
Sorry about that time when we were kids when I put you in a cardboard box and pushed the open end against the wall so you couldn't get out.  Also, sorry about all the times I told you we were going to play "operation" in the back seat of the car just so I could stretch out across the whole back seat while you "operated" on my legs.  Sorry about that time that I hung a troll head right above your face while you were sleeping.  I'll wait until my birthday for your apology on how you lit that same troll head on fire and threw it into my cabin.  Sorry for including your most hated nickname in the title of this entry, but some torture is required on the last birthday of your 20's. 


Happy birthday, Ryan.  I love you.

Watching from the treadmill:  Pretty In Pink