I grew up with brothers.

One of the reasons I love having brothers is that sometimes I get text messages like this:

How was the Easter service?

I was going to go to the tashi station to pick up some power converters

 but I had to come to work.

Immediately I felt 12-years-old again, and it was June and hot, hot summertime, and we spent every day one week going to Vacation Bible School.  Then we'd come home at lunch, and Mom would fire up the grill, and we'd watch Star Wars.  And life didn't get much better than that, though I'm sure I didn't know it at the time.