MONIQUE MICHEL

Cherish time spent with loved ones This past Saturday marked my little brother’s 16th birthday. Sometimes my friends ask me how my brother and I are so close and don’t drive each other crazy. I honestly don’t understand it any more than they do, but I know that growing up with Geoff has been a lot of fun. I was thinking earlier how weird it’s going to be next year away at college and not have Geoff across the hall. It’ll be strange not to hear his horrendously loud music and annoying video games at all hours of the night. But in the same way it’ll be sad not to be able to help him match his shoes to his outfit or to be able to ask a male opinion about my clothes. To be completely truthful, Geoff used to annoy me. He would pinch and punch me for no reason and then get me in trouble. I guess all little brothers are like that at one time or any other though. I remember all those painful times, but more than those I remember all the fun times that we had as kids. I remember us playing Dick Tracy (Geoff’s then favorite movie), watching cheesy Nickelodeon shows, and even going to Disney World. The fondest memories I have though are ones that are almost embarrassing. My parents bought Geoff and I one of those little kids Jeeps. They barely move, but give kids the illusion that they’re driving. I remember Geoff driving us around the house as I pretended to talk on the built-in radio dispatch system. We got chased by so many dogs on that thing. Some things never change. No, dogs don’t chase us these days, but Geoff can still be seen driving me around since, to this day, I have failed to get my driver’s license. All in all, my brother’s birthday has taught me a valuable lesson. Treasure the time that you have with the people that you love, because one day, maybe even sooner than you think, you may be separated from them. College life without my family is going to take getting used to, but I know that Geoff will always be up listening to that music or playing that video game if I ever need him. MONIQUE MICHEL, a local teen-ager, writes this column regularly for L’Observateur. If you have any questions or comments, write to me at P.O. Box 1493, LaPlace, LA 70069.