The figurative worst because he’s actually the best. Apologies to young Claudius if he reads this, as it will embarrass you.
A few years ago, Claudius performed in a show at the Tuacahn Amphitheatre in St. George, Utah. While there he befriended a Native American man who took him for dinner at the reservation.
Upon returning to New York, Claudius gifted me with Fran, a purchase from the reservation.
Why did he give me this strange figurine?
Because I am afraid of babies and he thought it would be funny to have a figurine that is literally crawling with babies.
Fran sits on my desk at every job and never ceases to give me a little chuckle.
My brother is awesome. His motivation, determination, and talent never cease to amaze me, but more than that, he’s grown into a truly amazing guy: thoughtful, empathetic, caring, assertive, responsible, motivated, talented, determined…practically every positive character trait. I’m incredibly proud of him.
As an older sibling, I feel the need to protect and take care of him, but he truly doesn’t need it.
Our family is like Goldilocks – older brother Voldemort is atrocious, younger brother Claudius is practically perfect, and I’m somewhere in the middle.
Every time I’ve shared mental health-related issue with Claudius he’s given the ideal response: listens without judgment and doesn’t make a big deal of anything.
My apologies if this post doesn’t translate to a wider audience. I write it because I’m having a good day and because
I hope that you have a person or people who you trust and admire as much as I do.