Genetics is a funny thing

My brother T called me yesterday.
There he is on the left-hand side of the picture.
Oh and look, there's DH back there pretending he knows how to grill.
Anyway, he had just finished talking with my mother and as he claims to be the favorite one he didn't want to sully his standing in our mother's eyes by having to ask her (1) how old she is going to be, and (2) the actual date of her birthday.
He's close, because he's shooting within the general vicinity, but he's like many men - he just can't remember.
Unless it has to do with the date of a particular football game.
So he calls me to get the info.
About the birthday, not football.
He can pretend to be the favorite all he wants, but I'm the only girl and that alone earns many more cool points.
And also allows me to inherit our great-grandmother's china and crystal.
Well, and her fat ass too but that's a different story.
So we got to talking and he had said he read my blog awhile ago.
He also admitted that he can't remember how to get back to it.
Now he and I have not lived in the same house in over 25 years.
He moved out West (the real West, not just Western NY State) in 1980 or 1981 - I can't remember exactly.
We really have only seen each other a few times since then - like maybe three or so.
It's not that we don't like each other, it's just that I was out allowing the government to pay for me to live abroad in exchange for giving them my body and soul 24/7.
I tell you this because it is important to my story, essentially to set up the fact that although we may have grown up together we really have not been around each other much in our adult years.
Although at the age of 43 I still bear the scar on my pinky finger where he ran over it with his ice skate when I was 8, not to mention the numerous mental scars to my psyche concerning the existence of vampires and werewolves.
Well he read the post in my blog about six weird things and he told me that he too likes his eggs hot, hot, hot. We continued to talk and found out that we share many similarities when it comes to the consumption of food, beyond the fact that we both like to eat it.
Obviously.
But he eats his food one item at a time as well, vegetables first, always, unless of course it is a meal with french fries, then they come first.
So I thought it was kind of cool to find out that I am not the only strange one in the family.
Genetics is indeed a very funny thing.