Happy Beerthday, Bro!

When I was little I always wanted an older brother to help me out of the sticky situations I seemed to find myself in, which back then mainly consisted of trying to avoid the wrath of the boys in our neighborhood who thought they owned the pavement that my friends & I were trying to ride our banana-seated bikes around on. I knew they couldn't keep us from riding where we wanted to and made idle threats in retaliation; but had nothing concrete to back them up with, except for my collection of puffy unicorn stickers that I was sure held magical powers. (Hello? They were puffy unicorns! Name one thing more magical than that.)

In those days of yore, my sister & I were not compatible in any way, shape, or form and it would have been refreshing to have that older brother around who could go forth and do my bidding for me, so that I could spin straw into gold and rule over all the land, amen.

In 1984, she decided to start stalking some dude who lived in our neighborhood, and she was hardcore; you'd never guess a nice girl like that had it in her, but oooof, did she ever. He was a year older and she made it her business to be his girl, which to her delight and my dismay, she succeeded. I quickly found out that there actually is something more magical than puffy unicorn stickers, and that is having a boyfriend who will do your bidding for you while your younger sister sits pouting in the corner, cursing the fact that she is outnumbered.

So, she had a boyfriend and to say that he & I didn't like each other was putting it lightly. I would have never believed it back when I was 11 but that dude who dated my sister would marry her a few years later, all the while neither he nor I being a fan of the other, and then in 1992 they'd have their first kid, who was the first of two amazing nephews, and on that very day I came to the realization that if I was going to be the best aunt in the world that my closest allies in that pursuit would logically be my sister and her husband. Pretty much everything changed for us that day, and we no longer tolerated/liked the other person so-so, but actually started to get to know one another like grown ups and since he had already been around our family for 8 years at that point, it didn't take long at all before I actually liked hanging out with him, and I was pretty sure he felt the same way.

I finally realized I had the older brother I always hoped to have. He's unbeatable in every way for a million reasons, some of which are:

1) When I had an old car he spent hours teaching me how to replace the brakes, fix a broken lock, replace belts; and I also learned that I look adorable with a little automotive grease on my face (according to Missy, anyway). He always answered my endless questions on how everything worked so that if there was something he couldn't teach me to fix myself, I would know enough about it that I avoided getting screwed over by repair shops.

2) He can whip up some tasty cajun food, and even homemade hot sauce.

3) He always has a beer on hand for you, because you're going to need it (see #2).

4) On game nights he can play a merciless round of Monopoly or RISK (which really is the only way to play, so I can appreciate that).

5) He might not appreciate my taste in reality television shows and it's apparent that he is a History Channel addict (gag), but we can agree on one thing for sure: Dirty Jobs all the way.

6) If Lenny Kravitz is coming to town, we're getting tickets. If Lenny Kravitz comes back to town, we're getting tickets.

7) He generally laughs at 99% of my jokes.

8) Even after 100 years together, he is still an amazing partner for my sister, so that whole stalking thing really worked out for all of us.

9) He has shown their sons by example what it means to be men and gentlemen (which are not mutually exclusive), and I have no doubt that one day they will be stellar fathers based on all they've learned from him.

10) He will do anything to help me out if I ever need him, and always at the end of it will say, "No sweat!" even if it was a huge pain in the neck.

Happy birthday, Mo! You rock. Let's have a Guinness or two, shall we?



Too many hot weekends of Missy's & my childhood were spent pulling weeds, dodging spiders and sweating bullets under this monster magnolia tree in the front yard of our Tennessee house, and that's the reason that I bet you money that I would never again do yard work of any kind. You say that one day it's gonna happen, but because I still have a visceral reaction to even seeing this photo, I can guarantee you'll never get the quarter I put up for your prize money if that fateful day ever comes. The real winnings for you on that day would actually be your own smug satisfaction, but my advice is for you to dream on since the prize I get if I stick to my guns by avoiding yard work is the whole not-doing-of-the-yard-work thing, forever. Definitely beats twenty-five cents and bragging rights any day of the week!


You came to pick Missy up for her prom and Charissa & I, 13 at the time, answered the door. I'm certain that had we seen An Officer and a Gentleman at that age we would have had an entirely different reaction to your uniform, one that involved swooning and encouraging you to carry her out the door to your car. Instead we made very poor attempts at stifling our laughter at your white bell bottoms.


1988-ish, Christmas festivities at Aunt Nancy & Uncle Chuck's. Missy, Mom & I had really incredible taste in awful sweatshirts.


The early days of our cooking show, Julie Flay and Jimeril Live! ("Slam!"). It's quite possible the only things we made that night were terrible fashion choices. I actually had to desaturate this photo so all the colors our sweaters wouldn't blind innocent bystanders. The actual color photo and it's corresponding negative should have been torn up and burned to a crisp years ago.


1991, the weekend Missy graduated from college and I graduated from high school. This photo pretty much says it all.


2003, Disney World. I found the sweet spot on Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin and kept nailing it over & over with my laser gun until my scoreboard in the rocketship Missy, Skippy & I were sharing could not get any higher. While everyone else on the ride was still trying to get close to my score (amateurs!) I took the next photo of You & Sparks, seeing as I had some time to spare:


I think you must be looking around for your ass because I just kicked it... Oh yeah, it's way over there!


Skippy, me, you, Sparks and Mis; the fabulous five. This is how we roll, yo.