Today is my baby brother's first day of school.

With such an occasion, the average person would associate crayons, cute little sneakers, crisp falling leaves, nap times and many other such sacred traditions. But, as usual, our family is the exception to every rule, and my brother is going to his very first day of real school, and it entering the 11th grade.

No, he is not some sort of weird child prodogy who is six years old and entering eleventh grade. Well, he is a child genius, but not one of those weird ones. Anyway, Fred has braved the world of public education, thankfully, in the eleventh grade. I did not have the priviledge of attending any sort of semblence of "real school" until I went to college. Scary days.

I don't know what we would do without Teresa, she instucted Fredd what to do and not do. The poor child! Without Teresa, we would have probably sent him to school clutching his lunch bag, and he would have been voted biggest dork of the year. And that would be a tragedy because Fredd is quite possibly the coolest kid ever to walk the earth.

Of course, as a true S--baugh, Fredd could not go to school without a certain amount of duty and responsibility heaped upon him. He is fully expected to get straight A's and graduate validictorian. Dad and Teresa have outlined a few things to help him in that area.

He is to sit directly in the front row and get called on as much as possible. He is not provoke or be involved in any sort of infraction of the rules. If he does, we ALL beat him. He is to make friends, enough to keep him from getting beat up, but not enough that it distracts from his school work. And lots of other lovely things.

My little bruvver is so... getting old.


Oh. Side note. He went and got his lovely curls chopped off, he now has that "fresh off the farm" look. 'Tis a pity.