The Beattie Clan Continues to Age in Record Time

Happy Birthday, Doug.
Doug does not read my blog. But I wished Donny a Happy Birthday, so I have to wish Doug one too. Or I'd be a beyotch.
I love all my siblings. But Doug and I...well, Doug and I are something else.
I moved out of the house when I was 18, Doug was 16. And he was pissed off that I left. But I never really understood why he was pissed, as we were fighting like hell froze over for a LONG ASS time before I left...yet, he was really mad that I packed up and moved across the US. Regardless, we've always been close. Even with the fighting and now that we can drink together, it's even better and I know that if I lived at home I would spend as much time as possible hanging out with him, because we both are sarcastic and fun. Regardless, Doug told me for years, and I mean YEARS...that he didn't drink. "I don't need to drink. Why should I make myself look stupid?" This is his answer to my asking if he drinks...Um. Ok, Doug. Whatever. Then I go home to visit a few years back and we go out drinking. Surprise. Surprise. I say I'm buying the drinks. Cause at the time, I actually had money. So. I say I am buying and it's going to be GM, because that's what I drink. He says he'll drink, but he only drinks Jack Daniels and he will only drink if I drink, and it has to be Jack Daniels. And he will only drink a shot if I drink the same shot with him. Fuck. Fuckin-A. I don't DO Jack Daniels. Ever. But I can't look like a big pussy in front of my little brother. So I caved. And this is the story I tell everyone when I talk about Doug. He's on his way to GM in a pretty big restaurant in the big cow state known as Wisconsin. Doug's Birthday is Nov 3 and mine is Nov 6, and he is 2 years younger than me. Growing up, he'd tell me (on his birthday, and for 2 days afterward) that he was only one year younger than me. I would get SO MAD, because we fought about everything. And good god, he's NOT one year younger, he's 2, so shut up! And I mean everything. So, this is what I think about whenever it's his birthday. I count down til mine, where I can be two yers ahead again. When I get full of wrinkles and am a mean ass ho bag I will finally agree with him and tell him that he's only one year behind me. Love you Doug, and can't wait to join you for a Jack Daniels. Happy Birthday.