Dear Big Brother,

Do you remember the time when I was maybe 6-years-old and you asked if I wanted to play hide-and-seek?  My panic-stricken little mind wildly inventoried the best possible hiding spots while you slowly counted to 100, the anticipatory inflection at the end of each number causing my excited-yet-scared heartbeat to increase to an unprecedented pace.

Scrambling to the cobweb-infested basement, I mustered all of my bravery to worm myself into a zippered laundry bag and what was ultimately the best hiding spot in the history of ever, where, upon your imminent failure to find me and my subsequent failure to work the zipper back down, archaeologists would discover my body in 200 years and conclude that I was the young victim of a heinous crime, not recognizing that they’d just discovered the remains of the hide-and-seek champion of the world.

“Ninety-eight…ninety-nine… ONE HUNDRED!”  I heard you yell from the top of the stairs.

“Are you ready?” you called, and I could tell by your voice that you were nervous that you’d lose this battle of wits to your dear baby sister who surely had the superior mental capacity combined with an advantageous small body frame to best you at the very game you taught her.

“Yes!” I called, my voice muffled by the fabric.

“Are you sure?” you asked.  Ahh.  You wanted to play fair – to ensure I’d found the best possible place so that, if you had to lose, you could lose like a gentleman, knowing the victor had earned her spot in the Hall of Hide-and-Seek Champions.

“Yes!” I assured you, giggling at the thought of you searching for hours, possibly calling Mom for help once the panic set in and you thought you’d lost me for good.

“Are you really sure?” your voice yelled even louder.

“Yesss!” I yelled.  Are you seriously this deaf, or is my hiding place just so awesome that it’s difficult to hear me?

“Are you really really sure?”

“YES!” I screamed, my frustration getting the better of my lady-like charm.

“BOO!” you yelled as the zipper flew open and I screamed in surprise.  And then you laughed.  You laughed in my face after you CHEATED while playing hide-and-seek with a 6-year-old girl.

For shame.

In the 20+ years since, it seems like we’ve made amends.  It appears as though we’ve gotten past your silly teenage antics and can treat each other like adults.

But I think you should know… I’ve just been biding my time.

Waiting for the day I’d taste the sweet nectar of revenge on my patient little tongue.

And today, dear brother, is that day.

The day that I can finally, with all the zest and spirit of a 6-year-old girl shouting, “I’m definitely ready!” across the vast and very public arena of the internet, say to you:

HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY!!!!!

I can’t believe how OLD you are.

Oh, and you know I love you immensely.