Oreos and Cable TV

     This past weekend was eventful for more than just Cristina and I, and despite us successfully nursing our children back to health, I’m pleased to say that’s not the most exciting thing I have to tell you.

I’m going to be my brother’s Best Man!

Congratulations, Sly and Monica!

     That’s my little brother, Sly. Watching them grow together these past few months, I’m reminded of how quickly love escalates things. It was not even 7 years ago that Cristina and I started dating and a year after that making room for a family. Now, we’re four strong with one more on the way. Love has a funny way of getting what it wants (that or we should really think about getting cable).

     In retrospect, I think I first noticed that my brother was head over heels for Monica when he gave up chewing tobacco. For six years, he dipped tobacco like it was an Oreo and he was a chubby little boy with a sweet tooth. I apologize for forever ruining Oreos for you, but I want you to know just how hard it was for us to get him to stop. Then Monica came along and poof, no more tobacco. She claims to have nothing to do with it, but I know she did. I know the true power of the…love.

     Although I would have enjoyed for my brother to extend his Best Man invitation to me in some sort of elaborate unveiling party involving a Man Box filled with manly things, I’m proud that he saved all the pomp for his fiancé in asking for her hand in marriage. Rumor has him humbly kneeling before her, affront her entire family in a dramatically staged, impromptu mass where choir bells chimed to the tempo of her gentle tears pattering against the marble as she managed a faint “yes”. Or maybe it was just him kneeling before her and her son asking them to be a part of his life forever. Either way, I’m happy for them. They make a great family, and if you ask me, it’s about time Cristina and I threw in the towel and handed the reins of growing the family tree over to someone else.