Dear Little Brother,
This is a letter to thank you for all the things I sometimes take for granted.
First, thank you for teaching me about patience, because the Lord knows I needed it with you and it was great practice for when I have kids. Thank you for making me well versed in the lingo of boy and making me see that guys really just are that chill, no extra thinking involved. Thank you for dealing with all the shit: for dealing with me when I’m in a horrible mood and snap at you, for dealing with my crazy requests, for dealing with every time I played the “it’s because I’m older" card.
Thank you for staying up late with me and binge watching any show on Netflix or OnDemand when I've been sad, even if that show is "Dance Moms." Thank you for listening to me complain about your gender and always being the first to let me know that a guy was in fact a dick. Thank you for being my secret keeper and for always answering your phone and opening the door when I lock myself out. Thank you for being my fiercest competitor, for making me go the extra mile. Thank you for being my number one supporter, for standing by my side against everyone, even if it was our parents. Thank you for always making me laugh, for putting a smile on my face when I don’t think there’s anything to smile about. Thank you for giving me the best hugs and telling me you love me when I’ve needed it most.
But, most of all? Thank you for being you. For your charismatic and goofy personality, for your caring nature, for all your quirky traits, because I could not have imagined growing up with anyone better than you.





















