Trying so Hard to Be Like the Big Boys

So in four days one doctor saw three of my family members with rubber gloves.

Fortunately, my dad's appointment was just a regularly scheduled one and he seems to be all clear.

My brother went in today also to find out, like my mom, he has shingles.

I still think it's crazy and weird. And it's not especially pretty. Marcus sent me a photo to my mobile phone today. Gross.

Aside from the grossing me out part, I'm pretty proud of him.

You see, as I may have mentioned before, I've always been pretty protective of Marcus and we've always done everything for him.

Well, not everything. But he was one of those kids that wouldn't order his own food. That kind of stuff we would do for him.

Even now, when he's faced with something as daunting as having to call to have his mobile phone replaced, he begs me to do it instead.

So when he got hit with a rash all over his back and decided he needed to be a doctor, of course he couldn't find his insurance cards. He was sounding pretty stressed about it, so I assured him he just needed to call his insurance company and get his numbers and that everything would be okay.

Then I reminded him several times to make sure to ask if the company covers his provider. I was quite certain he'd forget.

Marcus called me the next day. Marcus never calls me.

After a few minutes of greeting, I asked "What do you want? You never call unless you want something."

"No I don't! I just wanted to call to tell you I'm a big boy. I remembered to ask everything you told me to!"

I was shocked. He had actually handled everything himself.

A few minutes later, he interrupted me. "Crap! Tomorrow's Mom's birthday, isn't it!"

I don't even know who my brother is. He's like . . . grown up or something. It only took twenty-four years!