Number 2's birthday

I'm late, I know. Better late than never.

iMovie decided to choke at the last minute, just when I was putting the movie together, so the following is from yesterday. Just pretend like it's still Tuesday.

Today we celebrate the twenty-first anniversary of my first baby brother, Number 2. My earliest memory of #2 takes place on his first birthday. Regardless of whether or not this memory has been facilitated by our ONLY home video--the one that our aunt accidentally destroyed--I remember it clearly.

On the morning of April 8th, 1988, Mom & Dad spent several hours blowing up a garbage full of party balloons--the kind that you use to make animals and shit--and then we went to wake #2 up and dumped the garbage bag over his head. #2 was sitting in his crib and rubbing the sleepies out of his eyes, chillin out, when I made my debut as a ham (and bossy, abusive older sister) as I began smacking him in the head with balloons.

"Wake up, Evan!" I shrieked. "It's your birthday! I'm going to eat your cake!"
Number 2 sat there, staring in amazement at the bat-shaped balloon swinging toward his face.

As he played in the crib full of balloons, Dad zoomed in on me, marking the dialogue that our whole family has come to memorize and recite for some strange reason (perhaps because it's the only record of dialogue we had for about 10 years):

Dad: "Okay, Erin, it's time for breakfast."
Me: "But I already had breakfast!"
Dad: "You did? What did you make?"
Me: "Maa-aake?"
Dad: "What did you have?"
Me: "Animal crackers!"
cue family chorus in sing-song voice: "Animal crackers! That's not a very good breakfast, Erin."

Remembering the video inspires smiles all around, because this birthday will mark the first of many occasions on which I have effectively stolen the spotlight from Number 2.

Later on in the video, the camera pans to me kart-wheeling through the backyard and pushing Number 2 on the swing, causing him to accidentally knock into the tree until he starts crying. Fortunately, Dad was able to come to Number 2's rescue, and soothed him while he pushed me on the swing, instead.

The birthday festivities included family from my Dad's side--Aunt C, her [now] ex, and their three kids. We walked back and forth across the side yard, balancing eggs on spoons, carrying balloons under our chins and between each others' backs, all that cool shit. Needless to say, Number 2 sucked at all this shit. All he could do was hold a football with his baby sausage fingers and watch from the sidelines.

Although, once inside, it was cake time, and eating was something he never failed at. In fact, he split our mother's hoo-hoo when he was born, weighing in at 9 lbs, 12 oz. So he squealed like a fat pig strapped into a high chair when some idiot relative put the cake on the tray in front of him. He went at it with both hands and bathed in it, smushing it around in his hair and fingers, throwing some on the floor for good measure.

All I remember is being so pissed that he wasted the chocolate cake. Even as a child, I could prioritize: chocolate is thicker than blood.

Anyway, Number 2 grew up and got smart. So smart that he eventually did my math homework--for fun. Following in my Dad's footsteps meant that aside from being smart, he was really good at video games. We'd play Zelda--I had to beg to play because he and Dad would monopolize SNES--and when I got to a hard part, I'd ask him to beat it for me. Ry and Ky continue that tradition today; whether it's Diablo or Warcraft, Number 2 will pwn those nubs and level up to 70.

Growing up--and this may be a male thing, I'm not sure--#2 was obsessed with a few quality movies (Batman Forever, Three Ninjas, Three Ninjas Kickback, Drop Dead Fred) and felt compelled to learn the lines. All of them. I'd come into the living room at 10 years old and think, "oh, cool--Home Alone. I haven't seen this in a while." I don't think I ever saw the end, because Ev would rewind the part where Kevin plays the movie in the background as Harry and Marv are at the back door--you know what I'm talking about--and he would keep rewinding it until he learned all the words. "Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal."

He'd even do a dialogue between two people by himself: (skip to minute 2:40)


Now, repeat after me:
"Slow it down."
"Slowin."
"Slow it down."
"Slowin."
"Sloooooow it dowwwwn..."
[pause--best if recited with two friends]
"Uh oh. Fender bender."
"Woo, gonna get a ticket!"
"Shut up! Oh, not you, the kids."

Now rewind again to minute 2:40 and repeat. Twelve times. Now you have some idea what it's like to watch a movie with my brother. Unfortunately, his love of memorable quotes, or catch phrases, never faded as he "grew up." In fact, I'm pretty sure you could name a random movie and he could act out a scene.

His love of catch phrases STILL hasn't died. So, Ev, since it's your birthday, we thought we'd show you how we appreciate you and your Rainman-like determination to beat a quote till it's dead and has decomposed to the point that Grissom is examining what kinds of larvae have grown in it.

Happy Birthday!