two days late

Joyeux anniversaire, mon frere!

Andrew's in France right now, and I'll see him there in a week. He wasn't here to be a birthday bum. He takes his birthday way too seriously; he makes all of us treat him like more than a king. It's actually pretty wearing. But I can't complain because he wasn't here this year. I'm feeling guilty now, though, for calling him a birthday bum. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get over it.

Here's a little tribute to the kid who has managed to survive having me as his older sister.

Andrew is happy because he has such a lovely girlfriend. Don't know why he always pulls a fake sad face. He wasn't even being a birthday bum here.

Andrew is moneywise (I know it's not an adjective, but deal with it) because he has a rippin' sweet wallet. I'm glad he didn't lose it because I would have been heartbroken.

Andrew is suave because he can grow a full head of hair.

Andrew is economic because he really knows how to bundle up in the wintertime.

Andrew is fancy because he wears pink hats on family road-trips. This particular fanciness was not even a direct result of an epic saga about Lewis and Clark; it evolved naturally. Fancy.

Happy birthday, And. Love you loads.
Je t'aime. Gros bisous et a bientot.