My little brother Ryan turns 38 today.. I’m three years older than him.

When I see him at this age it’s always a little bit of a shock. I have an image of him from when we were kids that always comes to the forefront when I picture him – it’s nothing like he looks now. But if you think about it, we spent a lot of time together in our youth and much less time as adults, so it’s probably the way it’s supposed to be. But it’s still strange to see this grown man where I expect the boy to be.

Where I was always interested in books, imagination and superheros – Ryan loved engines, muscles and girls. I remember him always being the center of attention for girls, having greasy hands from helping Dad (Step-Dad #1) with a car or some other thing I wanted nothing to do with.

I could always usually beat him in wrestling by getting him in some hold and not letting go until he said uncle. He could always beat me in arm wrestling though. He’d always be faster then me in tag which frustrated me so much one time I grabbed something close by and pitched it at him as hard as I could – surprisingly my aim was right on – he had to go get stitches. Once, knowing he might win a fight I feigned that his attack had blinded me and got about 5 minute of sympathy before admitting I was just joshing everyone.

So today he’s 38. A grown man with a grown child of his own. Still the guy that flirts with girls and is up to his elbows in engine grease. To me though, he’ll always be the little kid I couldn’t catch in tag, the little brother that more often than not I shared a room with growing up.

Happy Birthday Ryan!