Brother Running-man's Birthday

I can't, at this particular moment, actually recall Brother Running-man's day of birth. I was eleven at the time, so it isn't as if I wasn't old enough to recall, but nothing comes to mind - not sure why. I do recall a couple of things prior to his being born, one being his name. Brother Running-man goes by his middle name, and that was as intended by my family. From the start, Mom and Dad planned to use his middle name and have his first name of Christopher just be a spare. But I remember I wanted to call him Chris, and furthermore I remember not only wanting to call him Chris, but only using the name "Chris" for several weeks after he was born; I refused to use his middle name. I finally gave it up as a lost cause, but I was very disappointed that I couldn't sway those who counted. Had I had it my way, bro, you'd be answering to Chris.

While sitting here typing, the first actual memory of Brother Running-man I can dredge up has to do with something I'm sure he'd as soon forget. He was somewhere around two years old, and he hadn't yet had a haircut. His hair was a flowing, baby-blond (though "blonde" might work here as well). One day when some folks with a daughter were over, my parents dressed poor Brother Running-man up in clothes made for the fairer sex - but I have to admit, he was pretty fair. He made an adorable little girl, picture perfect (and pictures were taken, again something I'm sure my bro would as soon forget). But even with this fling with cross-dressing by force, he turned out okay. As flings go, I guess it was Mom and Dad's last fling at having a daughter, giving the baby business up after Brother Running-man arrived as the fourth son.

I also owe Brother Running-man a vast apology for deeds from my late teen/early twenties time period. When I was (in theory) supposed to be the adult in a couple of situations, I allowed some stuff to go on that shouldn't have gone on -- nothing drastically nasty, and certainly mild by today's standards -- but shouldn't have gone on. Heck, prior to visions of real weirdness taking root, let me just say adult beverages were allowed for a nowhere-near-adult. I've looked back on those occasions many times with a ton of regret, so, bro, consider this to be the vast apology owed. To his credit, though, even with such corruption of his younger years, Brother Running-man has overcome.

With Brother Running-man being eleven years my junior, it's occasionally easy to just think of him as the baby of the family. But in reality he's a mature and intelligent fellow, a wonderful husband and dad, and an all around great guy. His running blog is in my links list, and it's an inspiration to a couch potato like myself to get up and get some exercise. By inspiration, I mean it's almost guilted* me into starting an exercise program -- but, hey, "almost" will hopefully become a reality.

To sum up, I'll just say you're a great guy, bro -- have a great birthday!

*guilted - to cause feelings of guilt. (Works as a word for me)