03 November, 2007

~ It's....Michael....actually ~

My brother's name is Michael. It has been for most of his life. Not all of his life, but that's not the point at this moment. The point at this moment is that his name is, as I said, Michael.

Not Mike. NOT Mike.

Michael.

Michael suits him. Michael lies across his shoulders like a meticulously tailored silk dinner jacket.

In a fabulous shade of merlot.

With velvet lapels.

Ü

Though Mike does seem to be a logical nickname for someone by the name of Michael, Mike is the name of someone else entirely, someone who is not Michael-Who-Is-My-Brother or even My-Brother-Who-Is-Michael.

Urgh.

I have heard my brother say, politely, of course, "It's…Michael…actually," more times than I can count. Prolly pretty close to eleventy-billion times...but not quite, 'cause sometimes it's just not worth the breath.

Y'know how it is when someone lumbers you with a nickname you dislike and then insists on calling you by that nickname, despite the nearly eleventy-billion times you have corrected them....politely, of course? Yeah. It's kinda like that for me as The Big Sister. I get all urgh-y when someone refers to my brother as Mike.

Who he clearly is not.

Not when he was smaller than me, not when he grew to be a foot taller than me…not even today when it happened again! (scowl)

With apologies to all the Mikes in the world, I say, once again, and with feeling, urgh!

.:sigh:.

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