#siblingbonding

so of course I had to call him immediately at 6am to make sure he was still, in fact, alive

and he picks up the phone going ‘dude its 6am on a Wednesday, the fuq?’

and I’m all ‘I had a dream you died, you’re not ded right’

and he’s immediately serious and goes ‘oh, [wife] does this all the time, yea I’m good, totally alive and nothing bad has happened’

and just hjhjdasklj the fact that this is a thing and he takes it seriously and didn’t get mad and made me feel better

some srs sibling bonding right there, for sure

Who else wants some of THIS in Race to the Edge’s upcoming Season 5?

The last eight years have brought a lot of growing up, a lot of learning, and a lot of change. Out of all those changes it was the birth of my youngest brother that has had the biggest impact on my life. The day he was brought into this world I was unknowingly given an opportunity to watch a little boy grow in length, width, brilliance, and uniqueness. I watched as my parents plopped him in a highchair at the spot diagonal from me at the dinner table, then a booster seat, and eventually a normal sized chair that matched the rest.

 We share a house and a family but are from two different generations and that divide could not be more obvious. For this reason I’ve never felt we’ve had many opportunities to bond over anything in particular.

 This has nothing to do with the unconditional love I have for him or the want to be a good role model. To put it simply, we just don’t have a lot in common.

 Tonight my family did as we always do and spent our Sunday evening at a Mexican restaurant indulging in cheese dip and margaritas (on the rocks, no salt). Stuffed and happy we took to the car to begin the journey back to our house so we could all fall into an enchilada induced coma. In the midst of our drive I connected my phone to the Bluetooth and began playing the Phil Collins version of True Colors. We all sang along to the parts we knew and gushed as to why we “love this song!”

 Then my beloved baby brother chirped up. “I love music and I don’t know why I love it so much”, he said. I turned my head toward him to listen to what else he had to say. “ It…it’s hard to explain with words”, he revealed in a frustrated tone. “It makes me feel…like… I don’t know how to explain”, he frantically looked to me to see if I had the right words he was looking for. A smile spread across my face and I answered, “I know, buddy. I know exactly what you mean”.  

 There it was, something we had in common, the unexplainable love for music that not everyone understands. My eight-year-old brother doesn’t just listen; he feels it, like I do.

🪔✨ Celebrate Bhai Dooj with Fun & Learning! ✨🪔

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