This post is all about my little brother, Mack-a-whack-attack-a-snack.
Mack is 8.
He has blonde hair, and green eyes.
He’s a grey belt in Tae Kwon Do.
He loves our big black lab, Oliver.
While I was writing the ‘About me’ post, he came in here and said “Are you writing about me?” So yes. I am. Now.
He is my most devoted reader.
(Reading that, he says “I haven’t read anything”. Exactly. I haven’t posted anything yet, kiddo.)
Malachi. The kid who got my well-deserved freckles. He has freckles. He has freckles right across his nose. I don’t have freckles. None! Nada! Zip! He has my freckles! Has he read Anne Of Green Gables? No. He has not. Does he adore freckles? No. He does not.
He likes growing his hair out, but it’s short right now because, let’s face it, buzzing a boy’s head–a little boy who wants to be anywhere, doing anything except for being here, having his hair cut–is a lot easier than cutting his hair, and trimming his bangs.
Malachi. The kid who has grown up on the big stage, just like me, and who is now an incurable ham. He comes by it honestly, though. Everyone in our family seems to be a ham, at one time or another.
Another thing. He likes to eat. A lot. All my boys (my brothers, and my cousins) do. Our family gatherings are ridiculous. So. Much. Food. Such good food, too. I love it.
He has me in a ‘death lock’. I think it’s time for supper.