Christmas 2009 with Hemmy

My brother got here on Christmas Eve. It has been 3 years since I last saw him. To say that our visit has been wonderful, is an understatement. Seeing my baby brother interact and play with my kids is the best gift I could have asked for this year. It has been one for the books.

The kids woke up right before 7:00 on Christmas morning. We spent the next 3 hours opening gifts. We would have been done a lot sooner (especially if HP had anything to do with it) but The Dude wanted to inspect and try out each and every gift. He had opened his stocking and present from Santa and was already raring to go outside. I guess he figured the other presents could wait (HP did NOT think that was cool).

It was a great morning filled with memories I will treasure until the day I die. But as always, I will let the pictures do the talking...

Here is The Dude with his trick bike he got from Santa (and helmet he got from GG...good call GG). He was ripping around the driveway like a bat out of hell. It was hilarious!

Figuring out the knee and elbow pads. At first I thought they would be unnecessary (but held my tongue because he was so excited about them). After seeing him whiz around on the bike...they are a really good call.

As was the case last Christmas the favorite stocking stuffer was balloon rockets and a pump. The cheaper the gift, the more they like it! :)
HP checking out her stocking. We had to wake her up and you can tell she is not really herself in this picture. A rare shot taken before she got her glasses on.
The Dude inspecting the colossal stocking!

Our "treats" for Santa. Beer, Milk, candy cane, cookies, crackers and shrimp dip!

The stockings were hung...Hemmy got a tube sock stocking. Keepin' it classy!

The Dude hanging his uncles stocking with care.
One of the many staring contests that have taken place in the last 72 hours! The Dude is surprisingly competitive and has won his fair share!
The. Best. Gift. Ever.

The Hemorrhoid Chronicles Part 3

Hemmy and I were 8 & 10.  

My grandparents had decided to take us on vacation with them.  We had enjoyed ourselves in the Canadian Rockies skiing and doing all sorts of other winter activities.  Our grandparents were so much fun to vacation with.  They let us do things our parents didn't (like hot chocolate WITH whip cream at BREAKFAST) and really spoiled us rotten.  But, after a few days with both Hemmy and myself, my grandparents must have needed a break.  

They sent us on a 4-hour glacier tour.

That's right, they put little Rikki and little Hemmy on a full-on bus tour, with the utmost trust that the tour guide would safely return us to them at the end of the day.  

We felt a combination of elation from being without any supervision, and utter fear...from being without any supervision.  

The tour started with a bus ride which was pretty uneventful.  Although my memory about the bus ride is a little foggy, I am sure that Hemmy checked out the bathroom.  Wherever we went he made sure he found time to check out the commode.  The kid always had to pee.

Once we had gotten to the base of the glacier, the tour guide informed us that this was as far as the bus could take us, and we were to get off the bus and wait for our next mode of transportation.  

What we got to ride on next was some sort of tank/snowmobile/bus hybrid.  It was huge.

Hemmy's eye's popped out of his head and I could tell he thought we were getting to ride on top of a transformer.  I had to pull on his shirt to prevent him from cutting to the front of the line.  

Our nice tour guide came up and asked us if either of us had to use the bathroom.  After assuring her that we didn't, we got to climb aboard the...beast.

I have to say that poor Hemmy's little heart was crushed once the beast started moving.  I think in his 8 year old brain, he was thinking that is was going to fly up the glacier.  Looking back, we could have strapped on a pair of golf spikes and made it up before the beast did.  It was SO slow.

After a 1/2 hour ride that took us up the glacier (I am sure it was more than this, but it felt like we had only travelled 50 ft) we were finally at the point where we could get off and walk on the glacier.  The last thing the tour guide said on the megaphone before the beast cleared out was "Ladies and gentleman, feel free to drink directly from the glacial streams, as it is the purest water in the world".

Hemmy and I took off like rockets, we were drinking the water, jumping across streams, basically blowing off the steam that came with being cooped up in a bus/beast for an hour.

After about 15 minutes, Hemmy's eyes started to get real big.  He started to do his notorious I-have-to-pee-dance.

We were the furthest people up on the glacier (which looking back, shame on the tour guide, some babysitter she proved to be) when Hemmy said he couldn't take it anymore.  

The kid, unzipped and let a rip.  

I remember him laughing for two reasons.  One, he thought it was funny that his pee made steam as it hit the glacier.  And two, he couldn't believe that he was peeing on the very same glacier that people were drinking from.

Nobody noticed a thing.

After making a pact not to tell, we sat with smug little grins the entire trip back to the welcoming arms of our grandparents.

Happy Birthday Hemmy

Hemmy is the ripe old age of 28 today!  My parents are out in British Columbia visiting with him and Chipmunk.  I hope you guys are having fun!

In honor of Hemmy's birthday I thought I would share a little story with you all.

When Hemmy and I were growing up, he had plenty of gross little habits (milk slurping, fart cupping, belch blowing) but none was more repulsive then his method for clipping his toenails.  Instead of using a clipper, like a normal human being, Hemmy used his mouth.  Yes, you read that right, he used to BITE his toenails off.  Usually, if I was in striking distance, one the toenail was disconnected, he would spit it at me.  I still cringe at the thought of being pelted in the forehead with my brother's rhino toenails.  

Since we haven't lived together in 12 years, I had assumed that he had grown out of this habit.

I thought wrong.

Below is an email I got from Chipmunk this very week...

Heading:  Your brother is gross!

Funny story that I thought you might enjoy (or just be disgusted knowing).  We had a ceiling fan installed yesterday (thanks to your wonderful parents!), so we had to move the couch and pull up the rug.  When I went to clean up after and move everything back to where it was, I had to get out the vacuum, because there were at least 15 chewed toenails under the couch and rug, courtesy of your brother, who drinks beer, watches TV and chews his toenails - in his mouth. GROSS!

Hope that painted a pretty picture for you!

Chipmunk XOXO

Chipmunk is a brave, brave girl.  

Happy Birthday Hemmy, I love you to bits and pieces (and I promise to get you an industrial strength toenail clipper for Christmas)!

The Hemorrhoid Chronicles Part 2

Since Hemmy's 28th birthday is a mere 4 days away, I thought I would continue on the get-to-know-Hemmy path.

Hemmy is a tall mother-flogger.  He is 6'8" on a bad day and is a solid as a brick-shit house (one of my dad's favorite terms).  So you can imagine that he can be a pretty intimidating person, especially when you meet him for the first time.

Starchy and I started dating our first week of college.  We were pretty much inseparable for our entire Freshman year.  Since his hometown was only a five hour drive (compared to 24 hours to get to mine) I went home with him for holidays and long-weekends.

At the end of Freshman year, Starchy and I decided it was high time for him to come home with me.  We recruited another college swimmer friend, Big Bear, to come with us so that Starchy had someone to ride back with him (Starchy and Big Bear were staying for a week and I was flying back at the end of the Summer).  The ride from Illinois to Saskatchewan was uneventful.  Starchy still gives me crap to this day that I was useless and spent more time sleeping than awake.  Whatever.

We finally made it home safe and sound.  My parents were there to greet us but Hemmy was no where to be found.  My mom informed us that he was out with friends, but would see us in the morning.  We visited for a while and then called it a night.

The next morning, Starchy, Big Bear and I were hanging out in my parents basement.  We were plotting how to take full advantage of the 19 year old Saskatchewan drinking age, when Hemmy walked in.  

Now, my brother has never been OVERLY protective.  But he didn't know Starchy from Adam, and was hell bent on trying to intimidate him.  He barreled down the stairs, taking two at a time, when he got to the bottom of the stairs, he bellowed "WHERE IS HE?" as loud and as menacing as he could.  

I'm pretty sure I saw Starchy's butt-pucker through his triple-starched jeans.

Although he put up a good front and went straight up to Hemmy and gave him a manly handshake, I could tell that Starchy wasn't at all prepared for meeting my beast of a brother.

Thankfully, Hemmy dropped the tough guy act, and Starchy, Big Bear and Hemmy, went on to enjoy the rest of the trip hanging out with one another (and pretty much casting me by the wayside).

I wouldn't say that Hemmy and Starchy are BFF's, but they are close.  When we get together, they swap stories and act like cornballs together(all while ignoring Chipmunk and I, but we prefer it that way).  It is a great feeling knowing that two of my favorite men (in addition to my dad, my father-in-law, and my Grandpa) get along so well.

The Hemorrhoid Chronicles Part 1

Why hemorrhoid you ask?  Because this is about my brother, and he has always been a real pain in my a$$!

Hemmy (I gotta shorten it, but you know the real meaning behind the nickname) and I grew up in the water.  We both took swimming lessons from a very young age and I can honestly say, we took to it pretty naturally.  It was a pretty natural progression to go from swim lessons to swim team, and that's exactly what we did.  I started competitive swimming when I was eight, Hemmy followed a year later.  

Swimming is a great sport, I was just commenting to Peanut's mom the other day that you rarely get injured, you are always clean, and your hair gets nice and shiny!  Hemmy and I really did LOVE swimming.

We had been training and competing for a few years.  Meets were once or twice a month and usually (at least in the early years) within driving distance.  

This particular meet was in Regina, the capital of Saskatchewan.  Hemmy was 11 and I was almost 13.  About midway through the meet Hemmy was getting ready for a race.  The dutiful, responsible, loving sister that I was, I parked myself behind his lane so that I could cheer him on.  Hemmy takes off his sweatpants and puts his goggles on his forehead.  As the referee is blowing the whistle to signal the swimmers to get on the blocks I notice something is terribly wrong. 

Hemmy has to pee.

Poor guy was standing on the blocks quivering in his Speedo's willing himself not to pee.  He couldn't hold it any longer.  The pee starts to trickle slowly down his leg.  My mom, who was across the pool in the stands, gets the bright idea to jump up, point at me, and in a megaphone voice says "RIKKI, GET YOUR BROTHER A CUP TO PEE IN!".  

At this point, Hemmy has all but emptied his bladder, the parent responsible for starting the races decides to finally shoot off the gun and Hemmy finally gets to dive away from his predicament.

And I am left there.  Red faced.  The sister of the boy who just peed himself on the starting block.  The daughter of the crazy lady who decided it would be a good idea to have her son PEE IN A CUP!

Hemmy came away unscathed.  He has always had confidence and charisma and was able to laugh about the entire ordeal.  Lucky bastard.

But whenever we are together we make sure to gang up on my mom and give her shit about her quick thinking "GET HIM A CUP" across a 50 meter pool.