Today, October 26, my little brother turns 20. Since this is the sixth year I have missed his birthday (and he asked real politely), I will write this entry about the wonderful J-Kap. Throughout our years of growing up together, what I remember most prominent is constantly fighting with my brother. I honestly do not know how my mother put up with the two of us sometimes. I guess we owe her a big apology for being such pains in her ass.
I have many memories of Jeremy and myself. When you're young, and your parents work full time, you become best friends with your brother or sister. You may not always love that person, but no matter what, you have someone to play with 24/7.
I was a little over three years old when my parents brought my brother home from the hospital. I don't remember if I was thrilled to have a new sibling, but I do know I was not excited about the name they gave him. I can still remember telling my mom that Jeremy was such a weird name. Who had ever met a person named Jeremy? Of course as I got older, I met many boys and men named Jeremy, and I learned to love my brother and his name.
Growing up, Jeremy and I weren't super close. We had our own interests. I enjoyed staying in my room, watching TV and reading. Jeremy was always out playing sports with his friends. We would occasionally play with each other, but it would usually end in fighting. I remember one time in third grade and I had just gotten my retainers. My orthodontist said I should go home and read a book aloud to practice speaking with the retainers in. I thought I would read a book to Jeremy. This ended with me in tears because Jeremy broke one of my headbands.
That wasn't the only time we had an issue. Jeremy and I always argued. If I said one thing, he would say the opposite. He also thought he was older than me. This meant that he would try and make me do things for him. He also had this idea where everything he said was correct, and everything I said was incorrect.
Jeremy also takes after my dad. They both love to talk. Jeremy can go on for hours and hours about nothing. He enjoys entertaining people. When he was younger, he would always try to do impressions and make jokes. We would always tell him that he should be a comedian when he grew up. I guess over the years I learned how to deal with his constant chatter. I remember one time I had a friend over. Jeremy was going on and on about Tortilla scoop chips, and how much he loved them. My friend was getting so annoyed by his constant talk. I thought he was pretty amusing, being able to talk about chips for ten minutes. How many other people can do that? He definitely has a way with words.
If you asked me what my number one memory would be of Jeremy and I, my answer would be when he spilled gas all over me. I want to say I was seven years old, and Jeremy was probably four or five. We were down in Florida visiting our grandparents. This was when Grandma Helen still had her very old Mercedes. One day, we all stopped to get gas. Jeremy and I decided we wanted to pump the gas. You know, we were little Jersey kids who never got to pump our own gas. I was wearing my favorite shirt that day. It was a white shirt, and in the middle there was a blue square, and a pink heart was inside the square. I received it for a recent birthday, and I thought I would have it forever. So my brother and I get out of the car with my mom, we open the gas tank, get the gas started, and put the pump into the tank. After Jeremy had his turn, he took the pump out of the tank, while STILL holding the "go" button. The next thing I know, there is Diesel gas all over me: my hair, my shirt, my shorts. I was drenched. And I smelled really bad. Luckily we had another shirt with us that I could change into. My mom must have washed my shirt hundreds of times, but I couldn't get the smell of Diesel out of my shirt. This story still cracks my brother and I up when we discuss it.
Growing up, our parents worked constantly. I felt like Jeremy and I entertained each other often. Especially at dinner time. Jeremy was starting to really get into sports and it was all he could talk about. During dinners, Jer would constantly quiz me about different sports. He would name a team, and I would have to say what state they're from. Or he would name a sport and a state, and I would have to name the team. Sometimes he got really difficult and he would say players' names and I would have to guess what team they were from. I think these little games helped me become somewhat interested in sports.
I honestly thought that writing this entry would be easier, but that's proving to be false. At the end of the summer I wrote a blog about my brother and me. We have grown up a lot since our fighting days. My brother and I may have fought a lot, but I know I would not be the person I am today without him. I probably wouldn't even know what baseball is, never watch an episode of the Office, or enjoy rap music. So on your birthday Jeremy, I want to say Happy Birthday, and thank you for being an amazing brother. I love you and can't wait until you turn 21 in 365 days!!!!
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