you know how sisters never call their brothers by their nicknames? like when everyone else called the neighbor boy “stinky pete” but the polite girl called him “peter.”*

anyway, my brother’s “nickname,” if you will, happens to be markduvick. everyone calls him that. even bryan, my husband and mark’s brother-in-law. bryan seriously says to me sometimes, “i saw markduvick today…” really?!?!

yeah, well, it’s possible i need to jump on the bandwagon of calling my OWN brother by markduvick before there are some serious mix-ups. here are two examples from the last week and a half.

lg: well, yeah, he’s been hanging out with mark.
a: mark arant?
lg: noooo, mark, my brother.

—–

lg: if both bryan and i died later on in life, i’d probably give my kids to mark.
p: mark arant?
lg: um, noooo, mark, my brother.
p: oh, that actually makes more sense.

bahahahaha. well, i guess the moral of the story is that no matter how famous my little bro is, mark arant is still MORE famous.

*that is actually a reference to famed childhood stories my dad used to tell us when we were kids. i, obviously was always the polite kid. : )