I Am An Only Child...

...and this is my little brother.  His name is Merton. 

 Sometimes he is almost as weird as I am.  Probably why my parents adopted him.  Hmmm....

He gets Christmas presents.

And goes to the beach with my parents.

And gets his picture taken with both of them. 

He also goes to Grandma's house, sits on the couch, and gets his belly rubbed... and his picture taken. 

There are moments I get jelous of how much time my Little Brother gets to spend with my faimily becaus I live far, far away from them all. 

But then I go home and he remembers me and comes running with a toy, then attempts to engage me in a game of "chase-me-around-the-kitchen-table-then-run-so-I-can-chase-you-please-please-please," and I melt and feel so thankful that I have a Little Brother.  Also I am so grateful I am so apt at anthropomorphizing the animals in my life.  It adds richness that would otherwise be lacking. 

Recently Merton had a sore paw and had to wear the cone-of-shame and I felt so terribly bad for him, my poor sweet Little Brother. 

But my mom had sympathy for him, and it didn't work anyways, so he got to cuddle on the couch with a dog shaped pillow (you can't quite see it, but that quilted thing his head is on is a dog shaped pillow) at my other Grandmother's house.  Okay... that last part is a stretch of the truth.  I have no idea when this picture was taken, but I like to think of him getting to sleep with a dog shaped pillow after the cone-of-shame. 

I really wish I lived closer to my family.  Really, really, really. 

Okay, bye for now.