My not-so-little brother turned 21 years old today.
Strange, since I still remember him as the squirrelly-headed 4-year old who wore pinstriped blue conductor overalls and a purple t-shirt with hippos on the front, chased the chickens in the backyard, threw matchbox cars into my shin and sank his baby teeth into my kneecap until I howled and kicked him.
That little brat is legal. That is hard to believe.
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