Happy birthday America.
Let’s just say that I will always be more inclined to say that than I will to celebrate 23rd June.
So this weekend my big-ish little brother aged substantially and to celebrate I bought him an poo-shaped emoji cushion and a poker set (the former because I thought of him when I saw it, the latter because… I thought of him when I saw it). Now he can legally gamble his way through life, as opposed to playing monopoly with anyone who hasn’t figured out how much he cheats yet. It has just occurred to me that if one of us kills the other, we’re both now completely responsible for our actions and will both go to big scary adult prisons, so on that note I’m going to go and eat leftover party food and reminisce the days I thought he’d never be taller than me. Here is a terrible selfie indicating how much we could both use a haircut.
But seriously, we owe our parents for taking us to the dentist.