3P

Yesterday, July 28, 2007, my brother John turned 13 years old. He's the baby of the family, the youngest of five and we've always had such a special connection. I think it has something to do with the fact that we are the babies of both our genders and so we both feel like it is our right and responsibility to entertain not only each other but our entire family with our astounding wit and ferocious attraction to life.



From infancy, John has been my very special soul mate. I was a year younger than he is now when he was born, and I took on a very tender role with him and was very protective over his little life. He was always a happy baby and since I don't like sad crap, we got along pretty well. My favorite thing about John when he was a baby was that it seemed like I was the only one in the world who could put him to sleep. One of my fondest memories is of when we went to Colorado during the summer when John was just under a year old and I would take him off away from the family and I would sit with him in my arms at the foot of some great big mountain and I would hold him swaying and singing to him until he fell asleep.



But after John would fall asleep, I couldn't wait until he woke up again. He was always laughing and we could tell at a very early age that he would have a remarkable sense of humor. In his younger years, it became very apparant to our family that John was, believe it or not, perfect. In fact, he quickly earned the nickname "3P: The Practically Perfect Pruitt." It seemed like everything he tried he was good at. This started when we realized his talent for sports (enter enthusiastic dad as future coach of all John's sporting activities). Any time anyone asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, John would always say "a basketball player" or "a baseball player." And I'm pretty sure none of us have ever questioned his ability to make it as a professional athlete. Not because of his talent, but because of his sheer determination to excel in all he does.



That's what I love most about John. His attitude of excellence. As the youngest member of our family, he also happens to be the tidiest and wealthiest. I think we've all gone to John to borrow money at some point. And, uh, I'm not talking about 10 dollars here or there. I'm talking hundreds. The kid saves everything he keeps (well, he did...until he broke dad's window with a baseball...) I remember one summer when we all went to Washington D.C. and we were each given an allowance of about a hundred dollars. By the end of the trip, John had about $120. Everywhere we went, he didn't think about buying food...he would just charm his way into someone's french fries. And he didn't worry about buying things for himself. He would rather save...or sell the things he had. That's how he ended up with extra.



I love the bond that John and I share. We are both music fanatics. He's learning to play the guitar and he's very very good at it. We both love to laugh. It's our favorite thing. And, for some reason, the kid thinks I hung the moon. Every time I see him he doesn't stop telling me how beautiful I am or how much he loves me or how funny or cool I am. If I've had a bad day, all it takes is a look or comment from John and it reverses every negative thing. He has provided me with so much joy and happiness in my life and I'm honored that God chose ME to be a sister to such a fantastic and wonderful boy. Happy birthday, Bubba. I love you.