Happy Birthday Steve

This was probably the "let's just have fun stage". At this point in time we didn't know any better.
I suspect this is about the age we were when we dressed up in each other's clothes and Dad pretended to not be able to tell us apart. And possibly this is the age where we shot spit wads at each other across your/Dwight's bed. Remember how we would laugh, and the red welts would really hurt? And we listened to the World Series on the little radio in your room? Love the cuffs on your Levi's.
And then we grew up - or so we thought. You looked so handsome and even in your Sunday best you still loved the kitten. You didn't mock my sugar water stiffened petticoats (they were murder on the back of my legs), and you were still my hero.

And then there are few, but very precious times when we get together as mature (?) adults when we still laugh and remember the magical times of a world that seems so far away.

Oh, the memories that photos stir up. Steve, you were always my hero - look at how far we have come - maybe. I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and may the weather cooperate and bring sunshine just for you. Love you lots, Brother dear.