Love thy brother

Years ago, when the wife and I were still a-courtin' I decided to stop putting off the unthinkable and introduce her to my siblings.

Some background here: my brothers are insane. Not your run-of-the-mill crazy; I mean literally "gone." I had hoped that we could somehow get married and live without meeting them, but that, I was told, would be somewhat uncouth. Plus, I figured that we would be short three attendants at our future wedding.

So, I swallowed my pride, prayed and brought her home.

As we walked into the house, I was blindsided by a tackle from my right side. Two others phantoms jumped on us, and in and instant, there was a four-man free-for-all scrum on the floor of my parents house.

Babetta looked on in abject horror.

Afterwards, when my mother had dispersed the impromptu wrestling sessions with a trusty frying pan, I tried to explain to my future wife how wrestling was normal. She did not understand how we greeted each other with kidney shots. I explained that if I walked in and hugged my brothers, they would think I was dying.

She promised, right there and then, to never have kids with me.

Eight years and two (plus) kids later, it is clear that my charm won the day, but I look back at those days and laugh.

My brother got married last year. The rest of us tried very hard to dissuade his fiancée from marrying him (we did like the girl), but she married him anyway. True to form, we cracked on, pinched, jabbed and kicked each other through out the ceremony. It didn't matter that it was the first time we were all in the same room in months; there was a lot of bruising to catch up on.

Babetta wearily looked at my brother's bride, Narissa, and sighed. "Shameless."

In the dressing room, while changing back into street clothes, Narissa's brother-in-law walked in to say bye. What he said had a lasting impact on all of us.

"It is great to see brothers who loved each other the way you guys do. Absolutely great. Never lose that."

We were humbled.

Outwardly, we vocalized about wanting to know what gave him that idea so that we could promptly stop doing whatever it was, but we were humbled.

My brothers are always there... just a phone call away. Since they will never read this blog, I freely admit that they are a significant part of my life. Anyone who messes with my lil brothers messes with me. That goes for all of us. In our culture, you learn to cherish your brothers.

After he left the room, we paused for a bit. And then, we wrestled some more.

Thank God for brothers. They help save a lot on punching bags.