Sidecarsally News

Most of you probably think I don’t have any siblings; That I was an abandoned baby, found by a garbage man in a storm drain, screaming and still holding my umbilical cord. Well, you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have siblings that were abandoned too. I actually have four brothers, and today is my youngest brother’s birthday. This post will be a collection of apologies and random memories we have together.

Happy birthday, little guy. I was only 3 1/2-years-old when you were born, but I remember Dad announcing the new addition to the family. Even though you were over 2 months premature and smaller than nice-sized turd, that didn’t stop you from growing up and hitting puberty before me. I only had small tufts of hair around my nipples until I turned 18, then the rest grew in.

Never once were you a shitty brother to me. I still have the “Cabin Boy” DVD you bought me for my birthday, even though I don’t recall ever getting you a gift for yours.

I’m sorry that I used to trick you into trading your quarters for my pennies when we were little. You thought that copper was worth more.

When you were 5-years-old, I urinated into your garbage can while you were sleeping. I was sleepwalking and thought I was in the bathroom until Mom woke me up. Either way, I’m sorry about that too.

When we both young, you convinced the babysitter that there was a burglar in the house. We all ran to the neighbor’s, screaming our faces off, and called the police. It was actually just the cat making noises in the basement. That same babysitter was also watching us when our house caught on fire. “Bad-Luck” Amy, we called her.

Remember when we were wrestling and I put you in a headlock, then your neck cracked and you pretended it was broken? I thought I paralyzed you and it scared the shit out of me, but you were fine. That was mean, but I forgive you.

My most fond memory of you is when Mom came home and caught you smoking Cat Nip rolled in construction paper. When she found out it wasn’t weed, she asked if it got you stoned anyway and you said, “No, but I have the munchies.” You were in 7th grade.

I’m sorry for slapping or punching you every time you beat me at a video game. I should have just unplugged your controller at a critical moment and settled for a cheap win.

You probably don’t know this, but I almost killed you 15 years ago. We were outside, throwing rocks into a giant pile of dirt. I picked up a huge frisbee-shaped rock, spun around until I was dizzy, then launched it directly at your head - on complete accident. I swear to God, it was an inch from your head when you suddenly bent over to pick something up. The rock whizzed right over your head, and had you been hit by it, you probably would have died. I consider this to be the one miracle in my life.

So happy birthday, Daryl! I miss you, and next time we hang out, I’m going to make up for all the mean older brother things I ever did to you. Even though nothing was worse than when you picked your butt and wiped it across my teeth while I was sleeping. Not cool, dude.

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