An older brother makes one bolder.

Today is my brother Allen's Birthday. He is 50 today. I can't make fun of him because I'll either die or be 50 myself in about a year and a half. I have 3 full brothers and 4 much older half brothers. Allen is the one closest in age to me, so he is the one I spent the most time with growing up. We were somewhat competitive since we were about the same size. He always looked out for me when he wasn't trying to pulverize me. Once in elementary school another boy, Darrell, and I were wrestling. We were going at it pretty good and since Darrell was bigger than me it must have looked like he was winning (I'm sure it only looked that way!) All of a sudden Allen appeared and grabbed Darrell off me and punched him. I was a little confused as to why he was inserting himself in the wrestling match, but later I found out that a trouble maker, LF, had told Allen that I was in a real fight and Darrell was beating me up. LF was a jerk, and I was never very thankful for him. Allen and I lived on a small farm until I was 9, and then we lived on about 40 acres in Hardin county for most of the rest of our growing up years. Whenever dad gave one of us something to do, he usually gave us both the thing to do. Dad gave us lots to do. Since we were out in the sticks Allen and I pretty much spent all of our growing up years with each other doing the same work and playing together. Our interests were different but circumstance put us together. I know having him with me made me a better person. He was wiry and strong and smart. He kept (or at least tried to keep) me out of trouble by explaining things that my lack of common sense kept me from understanding. I know that if I was ever in desperate trouble, Allen would do whatever he could to help me. Now he is more a friend than just a brother and I am thankful God allowed us to grow up together.