"We established certain codes of conduct and territory lines - a line down the middle of the couch, which if crossed would illicit serious foot pulverizing.
You, in your camouflaged uniform appeared dressed for war. I, being two years older, had time to think of a more subtle dress code - pink, a less obvious target amongst couches, carpet and tables.
What you didn't know was that after conflicts had been waged, ground covered, I would watch you asleep jealous of your ability to hug 32 soft toys simultaneously. My failed will power to stop sucking my fingers limiting the range of my hug.
Nor that despite my screams of "not again!", after another household utility had turned into parts, I was impressed by your curiosity for how things worked even though this didn't quite extend to putting them back together.
Or how over the years I continued to admire your ambitiousness with projects, even when you, looking woeful, late at night would request family assistance with yet another huge undertaking that was due the next day. A "request" that became dubbed "doing the budgie" after the first homework assignment on your favourite pet led to the assembling of a production team of cutters and gluers around the kitchen table.
I still love your continued curiosity, your ambitious reach and tenacity for grasping anything you can get your hands on.
Thank you for being the best sparring partner I could ever have."
