I Wanted A Pet Monkey

This handsome man is HDT, my "little" brother. When Mom was pregnant, people would ask me if I wanted a baby sister or a baby brother. I would tell them that what I really wanted was a pet monkey. I was extremely disappointed in January of 1964 when my parents brought home a tiny, red-headed baby brother. A five year old's yearning for a pet monkey is not something that should be taken lightly. HDT just wasn't what I wanted. Plus he took so much of the attention that I had monopolized for 5 years as an only child. Eventually, I decided HDT was cute, cuddly and sort of like a pet monkey in some respects. So I decided it was okay for us to keep him.

My brother will be 43 in January. He is the Assistant Athletic Director/Sports Information Director at a university in south Arkansas. He has an undergraduate degree in Physical Education and a Master's Degree in Kinesiology. He is single. He owns a home, an SUV and, all in all, turned out pretty well. He is my good friend as well as my brother and he has stuck around a lot longer than any pet monkey would have. I am proud of his accomplishments and I love him.

Today HDT had out-patient surgery to repair a ruptured bicept tendon in his right shoulder. I talked to him last night and he explained the injury and how it would be repaired by the surgeon. A lot of his detailed explanation sailed right over my music teacher head so I had to do some research on line to really understand what was going on with him. HDT's biggest concerns were that he wouldn't be able to lift weights for 3 months and that he might not be able to iron his clothes.

Let me digress for a moment.....my brother is addicted to ironing. He is handsome, in good shape and wears his clothing like a male model. The only time I have ever seen him slightly mussed and wrinkled is when he gets up in the morning. I think he irons EVERYTHING he wears. I can iron a pair of pants and they still look like I just pulled them out of a laundry bag. HDT's clothes are perfectly pressed and creased ALWAYS.

So, I called him just a few minutes ago to see how he was feeling. He is fine. The surgery went well. No damage to the rotator cuff. He isn't feeling much pain. The right arm in a sling is sort of bothersome. His friends brought over some food for tonight. He should be relaxing and recuperating, right? But what was he doing? You guessed it. He was trying to iron with his left hand.