The Skywalker Story

Fifteen years ago today I was woken my parents and deposited at my aunty's house. I spent the rest of the night on the couch and when my parents called the next morning, I was informed I had a brother.

Flash forward to 1999: the year of our greatest triumph.

We (by which I mean our dad) had spent weeks constructing the go-kart to end all go-karts. We were entering our school's second annual go-kart race, and we were going to win. I must point out this was the school's second and last race ever for reasons that should become clear.

On the day, we won our heat easily, our go-kart having actual bike wheels and not wooden or plastic ones, and not covered in tiger fur but having an awesome red seat. We advanced to the finals and I even remember who we were against: the Egan boys. I was the only girl in the comp and I was going to enjoy beating them.

We got ahead, naturally, and got around the first turn. As we were going down the longest straight, I felt the Egan boys' kart ram into my heels. Of course, I went flying, but I gave Skywalker a huge push as I did. I refused to let anyone touch me, even though my knees and palms were scraped to hell, but I had some weird idea we would be disqualified if anyone 'interfered,' and tried to follow.

All of which was irrelvent, as Skywalker had continued on down the slight slope to the finish line, all by himself, meaning ... CHAMPIONS!

So today, on his fifteenth birthday, I would like to remind Skywalker of our awesome victory. That was a brilliant day and I hope you have a bajillion more just like it.

(My knees: "Maybe not exactly like it.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SKYWALKER, MY LITTLE BROTHER.