In which I make my mother cry.

So. Hey. It’s been…a few weeks. APPARENTLY being happy isn’t conducive to blogging. Being bitter and obnoxious is, I guess. But happy? No.

But! Today was very special. Because my baby brother went to his last day of high school and he’s growing up and graduating on Sunday and he’s so smart and so awesome and I love him so much and…*sob*

*ahem*

ANYWAY.

Yesterday was his second to last day, and I ended up picking him up from school.

I used to do that a lot, because of various circumstances. (Like the circumstance where I refused to buy a car.) I don’t do it so often anymore- he’s older now and I don’t drive my parents’ cars anymore. But yesterday for whatever reason I did.

I loved picking him up. I loved listening to him talk about his day and his classes and the (perceived) problems he was having with something chemistry- or math-related. I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I tried to murmur helpfully.

(And they were never actual problems. They were more like, oh, this test might knock my semester average down to a 108%.)

I loved hearing him talk about his music and musicians; again, I didn’t know their names, but I knew they were important to him.

Mostly I loved watching him turn into a smart, funny, wonderful young man who makes us all so unbelievably proud, and will pretend to crash the Nativity with me.

 

I love you, buddy.

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