Revenge of the Sister

Last night I talked to my brother Matt before he got into a line to wait 4 hours to see the newest Star Wars movie.

Let that sink in for a moment.

He was supposed to get into the line wearing a Darth Vader helmet, which is funny, but not as funny as hearing him defend himself by telling me that his friend was bringing a light saber. Because that makes it okay to be 32 and wear a Darth Vader helmet IN PUBLIC WHERE THERE ARE A LOT OF PEOPLE.

Sometime later in the evening when our stepdad and I called him to ask if the Schwartz was with him, I got the feeling that the he didn't think we were as funny as we thought we were.

He was wrong though. We totally are the funniest.

I feel sappy and teary and grateful about a lot of things lately, but nothing makes me cry harder or happier than thinking about what a great uncle Matt will be.

Someday I'm sure that he and baby A will be headed to a midnight movie together. Preferably one without Darth Vader helmets and light sabers, please.