Micah

Micah is my little brother. He's almost 13 and he cracks me up on an almost-daily basis. I keep track of his moments of hilarity on my Memopad on my phone for moments like this - moments when I'm leaving kick-ass mode behind and want to dwell on humor.

That moment is now. Here are some Micah moments.

Two days ago, we negogiated a deal; he'd go feed the horses, I'd take him to the pool. For some reason, his end of the negogiations were done in song. I'm not clear on why. They just were.

To go along with the deal-making, he asked me what I'd give him for something that I can't remember now what it was (obviously my notes weren't the best). I said, "My love and affection for the rest of your life?" To which he replied, "I already have that. Um, how about one of Skye's puppies?"

On our way back from baseball practice one day, he was rubbing his eyes and suddenly yelled, "My eyebrows are going bald!!!!" Thus ensued a major eyebrow examination when we got home and asking every member of the house, "Are my eyebrows bald?" "Can you tell there's a bald spot right HERE?"

"Im gonna change my last name in high school," he announced one day, again in the car. "It'll be Micah Alan Albert so I'll be first and then we can leave (during graduation)."

We were watching Hells Kitchen the other night and I commented about the girls, "Their mouths are filthy!" "I'm telling you, they're she-mans," Micah replied.

And of course, "Look!! Two birds humping on the fence!"