My brother, James, has always been way cooler than me and I've always known it. Growing up, the neighborhood boys
my age would come over and ask if James could play. My swim coaches at swim team would ask me to go get him so they could see his splits-to-handstand for the millionth time.
I guess being able to do that at the age of three was pretty cool. And he has always been able to shake what our mother gave us way better than me.
And I now quote Spencer: "I hope our boys get James' tight butt!"
Growing up, however, I tricked him into thinking that I was actually cooler than him. He worshiped me and would do absolutely anything I told him to. On my command, he would wear dresses, kiss the neighbor girl, put on makeup, and participate in all of the lame dances I choreographed for him.
But the main thing that makes James the best and the coolest is that he is kind to
everyone. He is friends with
everyone and cares about
everyone. I have never heard him say one mean thing about anyone. Not even one tiny bit of gossip. Not ever
.
When James was in first grade, his teacher called him the "Prophet Boy," and I would totally roll my eyes because little brothers that are cooler than you and better than you are just so annoying. But you know what? She's pretty much right. I wouldn't be all that surprised if he does become the Prophet one day.
But only if my parents are still alive to bail him out when he forgets to feed himself or when he doesn't iron his suit on time or when he waits to pack for his mission travels until the night before. I love James and he is going to be a great missionary in Veracruz, Mexico!
And a couple of videos to prove James' coolness right
here and
here.
