My brother, John, is turning 40 this weekend. I’ve enjoyed teasing him about it, but, of course, I will always be older.
Turning 40 didn’t really bother me – not as much as I expected and not as much as turning 30 did. But, for some reason, John turning 40 is really affecting me.
Even though he’s one of my favorite people, part of me still sees him as the 9 year old bratty brother that I couldn’t stand. The one that I was always trying to get away from and the one made me wish I was an only child.
And then I stop and think, “wow. John is 40. Where did the last 30 years go?”
