. . . it's as if they never left.
My brothers are mine, and I love them. Having a brother is one of the most important gifts God could give a gal. Just ask my daughters!
My brothers are as different as different can be.
This one kept his cowboy roots:
He loves to swing a rope, ride horses, cowboy, tickle his daughter, cherish his wife, and is a working machine who never stops until sundown.
This one rides a horse of a different color:
He was a BMX champion, loves to ride motocross, fearlessly tries the craziest stunts, drives trucks with 18 wheels, and is a hard and meticulous worker.
Brothers don't care if you haven't worked in a salon for 20 years. They'll still ask for haircuts.
They're also not as picky as they were when you were fresh out of cosmetology school. They just want it short.
Brothers also help their mother with a beautiful but difficult task, staying with it until it looks just right.
They sit at a table with their mother's friend while their mother sneaks off with the camera to capture the moment.
Time can't erase a most crucial fact about my brothers:
When I need them, they'll be there.
God bless brothers!
(But especially, please bless mine.)
1 comment:
This is so sweet. I sure do love my brothers! We don't see each other often, but when we do, we are always able to pick up where we left off.
Yours look like a lot of fun! I bet you guys had some good times growing up.
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