I’m the keeper of the family photos.
My brother has a few that I’ve given him over the years, ones that I thought he’d enjoy having. Otherwise, they all sit in aging photo albums from the 70’s and 80’s, on a shelf in my closet. There’s even a baggy of my first hair cut with a yellow ribbon.
I have to tell you, it’s really fucking weird to see your baby hair in a baggy. Like, it used to be a part of me, you know? Hair lives forever, I guess. I’m sure that it must disintegrate eventually, but it still looks surprisingly healthy after 40 years.
I found this little gem (with a rare glimpse of my much detested chin) of my brother and myself down in Florida visiting an uncle and his new wife back in 1989. I was 15 years old and my brother was 11.
Warning: Major Nerd Alert
I sent the picture to my brother on Facebook Messenger.
“Nice pink top, dork.”
“Okay, Sally Jesse…”
This is an epic photograph that totally encapsulates my relationship with my brother.
Have the happiest Thursday that you can have.
I’m gonna go get stoned and listen to Wingspan.