"Joy to the world , all the boys and girls , joy to the fishies in the deep blue sea joy to you and me."

He's technically my step-brother. (There are some people I know that insist on making a distinction between brother and step-brother. They, in my opinion, are idiots). Wanna know why?

Because he is my brother.

The moment I laid eyes on him. The time I helped him tie his shoe. The time he curled up in my lap and snored quietly. The time he felt the pain of my breakup from long-term boyfriend. The time he was scared and I comforted him. The time we had a serious family issue, and I could do nothing but worry about how it would affect him.

And the love. My God. The love that I feel for him. It isn't step-anything. It's dead on. It doesn't matter that his father married my mother almost 8 years ago. I've known him always. I'm supposed to be his sister. And so it is.

To those of you who try to say he isn't my brother. You can go take a long walk off a very short, very splintery pier. You know nothing.

We spent the last couple days together. I'm busy. Very busy lately. But never too busy for him. Because he's almost a teenager. He's at the age where everything matters. Where his parents just don't understand, but I do. I can listen. He can curse a blue streak (not that he does). He can say what he really thinks. All bets are off. He can eat dessert first. He can order crab dip AND a cheeseburger with double fries. He can ride his favorite roller coaster as much as he wants. He can NOT clean his room and I don't care. He can stay up later than me. He can just be. And I love when he just....is.

The kid never stops talking. He is a chain of words, unending. He is fantastic. He is Jeremiah. Hence the nickname: Bullfrog. And ya know what? He really does bring joy to this world.

So we had a ball. We talked. And I hope he knows this now and always: that I am here. Not there. But here. No matter what.