Cheeky Little Boy

I've never had a brother, but I always wanted one.  I have one sister and I love her TO DEATH, but I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother.  Would he be nice?  Would he be obnoxious?  Would we be friends?  Would I like his friends?  Would we ever hang out?  Would I have to do the dishes less times per week?  What does it actually mean to love someone "like a little brother?" I feared that I may never have these questions answered.  This summer, I ended up living with my best friend Carly and her family.

And I found my little brother.

Taylor Crookston is pretty much the bomb.  If you have ever read my "Inside These Crookston Walls" blog, I'm sure you read plenty about him and his hilarious antics.  Living with the Crookstons was a BLAST, and it 100% would not have been the same without Taylor.  He gave me the first glimpse of what it would be like to have a little brother, and I LOVED it and I love him (as a little brother, of course - hence the whole point of this blog post).

Taylor is pretty much the teenage boy version of Carly (which, until this summer, I did not realize was possible).  I mean, if you take Carly and subtract boobs, mascara, lots of boy drama, and add some manly stuff, you've got Taylor.  This might explain why we became so tight so quickly.  I love Carly, so what's not to love about Taylor?  The more I got to know him, though, the more I got to know his individual characteristics and what makes him unique.  He's really, really awesome.  If you don't know Taylor, you should.  According to Carly, maybe I like him too much: "Christine, you like Taylor better than me!!!" was heard a few times. Anyway, we got pretty tight and blahdy blahdy blah.  End of summer.

Okay.

So THEN...I got engaged. (YAY)  And THEN...I realized another fundamental difference between Taylor and Carly.  Carly would never be cheeky enough to post a blog entry like this:

The Official Plea

Who (at the Crookston household) was the first to accept your pet/best friend? Me. Who do you have a rat"like" secret handshake with? Me. Who do you bond with about naming Beyonce's baby, Sasha? Me. Who has taken you on a date in the last three months (that was not your fiance)? Me. Who tricks you into watching "not-so-sad" movies like Steel Magnolias? Me... that one still might be tender :) Who came to Cindy's birthday party... happily? Me. Who has won "Crookston Moment of the Day" countless times? Me. Who is going to cry at your wedding and already knows it? Me. Who is the best "little brother" in the world? Obviously me. Who is tacky enough to ask to be apart of your wedding party via a blog? Me... Does this qualify me to be an usher in your wedding? Why, yes, I would love to think so, but it is up to you. It would be a great honor to be a very small part of one of the happiest days of your life.
Love, Love, Love
Taylor

I mean, what do I do with this?  I guess my choices are to awkwardly turn him down, ignore it altogether, reluctantly agree, or just tell him that he had it in the bag from the moment I got my ring.

Taylor, if you're "tacky" enough to ask via blog, then I'll return the favor.  Will you please, please be an usher in my wedding?  Rex and I would be incredibly lucky to have you as a part of our special day.

Love love love,

Christine