Once a little brother, always a little bother.
Oops! That was a typo.
Or a Freudian slip.
But it made me giggle, so it made the cut, and I’m leaving it in. In fact, I do believe I have a title for this post.
Oh, little bother Jeffrey. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Yesterday, I posted about my hair.
A shallow choice.
I drafted, edited and picked photos for more than a week. So it was even more shallow than you originally suspected.
As soon as I posted, my supportive and loving baby brother started a Facebook campaign to encourage people to vote for a head-shaving.
Just in case you ever monitor the comments section, now you’re in the know about what the heck is happening over there.
So, let me extend a GREAT BIG THANK YOU to those of you who are voting for anything other than head-shaving. As I say to my children every night, “May the Lord bless you and keep you and make his face shine upon you. May the Lord turn his face to you and give you peace.”
For those of you voting for a head-shaving… harrumph.
My brother is not funny, and I’m not laughing my fool head off. Every 15 minutes. When I think about how funny he is… n’t.
In fact, this very morning when I thanked my bother for increasing the hilarity by being said punk, he replied, “Of course! It’s my thing.”
Yes, it is.