17

You can pretend we're making 1-7 instead of two 7s.

I feel a little sorry for 17. It's sandwiched between 16 (drivers licence) and 18 (alcohol) and so fades into the background. But I liked 17. It was year 12, other people's 18ths, and lots of basketball. But as far as parties go, yep, 17 gets shafted. You want to save up (financially and partyingly) for the big one next year.


Party time!

And also speechily, which is why this post is not going to drag up all the embarrassing stories I could mention, in favour of saving them up to be used in twelve months' time.


Besides, who needs embarrassing stories when you have embarrassing photos?

Instead, I will just tell a little story of something that happened, not in an awkward childhood moment, but just a few weeks ago. It didn't strike me as anything massive at the time, but when I had it pointed out to me, I had to agree it is pretty cool.


How did we get so cool?

Wonders and I were out bookshopping when I came across a book we were interested in that I wasn't sure if I had back home or not. The following conversation ensued:
*ring ring*
Little Bro: Hey.
Me: Hey man, just checking if we have A Book?
Little Bro: I dunno.
Me: Just go look!
Little Bro: Yeah... no it's not here.
Me: Sweet. Thanks dude. See ya!
Little Bro: Later.
This was repeated approximately five minutes later, although that one ended with a promise of a book being sent to me.

Like I said, it was nothing, and I thought nothing of it. But Wonders (who has a sister in the same city, not a brother across the country) thought it was so awesome that I could call him up for a five-second query. And I agree, especially because I am equally able to call him up for a ten minute frisbee update or an hour chat about anything from English homework to the awesomeness of wheelchair basketball to ice-skating plans for two months from now.

And that is just one reason why it is my pleasure to wish my little brother (aka skywalker) a very Happy Birthday! Hope 17 is awesome for you, kiddo.