Today is the birthday of my baby brother, Douglas Corry. Some of these pictures have significance, and some of them I just liked a whole lot and so I posted them here.
These two (below) have reference to a post I made here. It was the birthday of one of my other brothers, and to honor (and flatter) him, I posted a picture of all the men in my family. The picture made it appear as if Jacob (the birthday boy of that post) was the tallest man in the photo. If you'll read the comments to that post, you will find that Doug took good-natured offense to that, since it is Douglas who actually holds the distinction of being the tallest descendant of my parents.
So, in recognition of that fact, here are two pictures, taken around the same time as the picture posted back in February, both of which show that Doug is clearly the tallest. The second also shows Doug to be the most sleepy, which tends to be quite accurate as well.
These next two I put in because they are pictures of (as far as I know) THE VERY FIRST EVER ever Corry Family Eggstravaganza. The third or fourth annual Corry Family Eggstravaganza is something to which I previously alluded to here. Since Doug has won this contest more than anyone else in the family, I thought it was appropriate.
And now for the birthday poem:
Ode to Doug
Ode to Doug
by Charlotte C. Cantwell
He was born when I was twelve, at the end of May,
When I heard he'd arrived, it was a fabulous day.
I loved him so dearly, though teasing him gave me glee,
It's come back to bite me, since now he's bigger than me.
(I used to pin his arms and legs down, and then let my long (luxurious, chestnut-colored) hair dangle in his face. He couldn't do a thing about it, and I would just laugh and laugh. I never did it long enough to get him crying or anything like that, but still, judging from payback I get now, it must have been at least a little bit frustrating for our old Dougle.)
When he was around ten, I left home for good,
But I saw him quite often, as often as I could.
As we all got older, he became "Smiley Doug",
No one makes us laugh more, the silly old lug.
That last rhyme was awful, and so it must be quite clear,
The end of my poetry ability is drawing ever near.
So, with just a few more words, I'll end this poem too.
Happy Birthday Dear Douglas, How dearly I love you!
(Some of you may have noticed that Doug got a whole photo-essay as well as a poem for his birthday, while the birthdays of my other family members have been met with fanfare that has been somewhat less extravagant. I have no explanation for this--except that I was in a photo uploading mood. Rest assured that it certainly does not mean that I'm exceptionally partial to Douglas. Heavens! We couldn't have that now, could we?)