Snaps To You Award: My Baby Brother, Questicle

It has been far too long, eons and eras, and almost long enough for Kristen Stewart to blow all the money she made from "Twilight" on weed, since I have given out the S2U Award. Today, reminding me that perhaps I'm not giving it to the right people, my mom suggested that I also give out an award to people and entities who do stupid things with zero flair and no panache, and call it "The Pork and Beans Award."

No, I don't know, either.

But I do know that for now, we'll stick with the S2U, and this week, on his 24th birthday, I know of no better recipient than my little brother Jordan, who should get the award for no other reason than the fact that he can totally rock the middle name "Quest." No one believes that it's his real middle name, but at birth, each of us was graced with a grandmother's maiden name for a middle name, and I drew the much less Questionable "Scott." Frankly, I'm shocked that it took me 24 years of being the nerdlier sibling to realize that I ought to be calling him "Questicle."

My brother and I aren't twins, but aside from his ultra-laid-back demeanor and my obsession with handicrafts, we're very similar. I kinda feel like we are twins--twins who were, by some trick of fetal magic, born two years apart, giving me the chance to solidify my position as The Responsible One, so that he could arrive fashionably late and slide right into the role of The Cool One. When we were kids, he was always the one running ahead while I watched from behind to make sure no one kidnapped him. As a teenager with my first-ever boyfriend, my lame, lame curfew was 10, and I was just stoked to be let out of the house with a boy at all. When Mom and Dad told Questicle that he should be home by ten, he'd argue until they pushed it back to 10:30; then, around 11:30, he'd start thinking that maybe, after one more beer, it was time to head home. In high school, he was the kid who always knew where and when the parties were, and which ones were worth gracing with his presence. I, conversely, was not actually aware that there were parties in high school.

You know you're perhaps not the sought-after sibling when you're the older child, and people know you by your younger brother's reputation.

Today, his 24th birthday, we are miraculously close to another major life event in The Life and Times of J. Questicle: college graduation. After six years of a long and twisty road to adulthood, which sometimes looked to be heading to adulthood, and sometimes looked like it was going to trail off into Beach Bummery or The Art of Professional Fratitude, Questicle rises triumphant to claim his slip of academic sheepskin* from Clemson U and set forth into the world of gainful employment and shitty office coffee. My dad gave me the best example to date of how laid-back and easygoing my brother is: The other day Dad called to shoot the sheeot with him, and said, "So, when's your last day of school?" Meaning his last day of school EVER. After 19 YEARS of school. Questicle's response? "Um...I don't really know. I'll ask someone!"

Despite the fact that I've painted the picture of a totally stereotypical fratalicious slacker, Questicle is ridiculously smart and, even more importantly, is one of the most well-loved people I know. Everyone wants to be his friend, and once they're in the circle, they never leave, so help them God. He's an awesome kid/man/functional human. So Snaps to You, Questicle, the best little brother I could have asked for. Happy birthday!!!!

I'm fairly confident he's reading this right now, drunk. And I'm totally cool with that--because I've taken some lessons in coolness from him.

*Not a reference to sheepskin condoms. You stop that, this is a family post!