Monkey and the Snake…

are the best of friends and the worst of enemies.

When people ask him to characterize our relationship, that's what JP always tells them. And to some degree our stars are true. When there are only two of you, and neither of you are particularly outgoing children, there's no choice but to get close. When we were kids, we used to huddle under a big flannel blanket and I would tell him stories. It didn't matter what kind, JP was my number 1 fan. My favorite thing to do during storytime was to make him laugh, so the gags got worse, the parodies more exteme. When we got older we started making skits. (Conchita and Alfonso and the mariachis! Take Manhattan/London/Cuba…, Manolito the Fake Conyo, Pigglet and Poodle, JP Turns Papa's Factory Inside Out, the entire Papa and Mama series…).

I didn't realize how much I missed that till he visited this week. My folks and I have a great time together—and I certainly don't miss the spectacular fights that JP and I are capable of staging. But just as no one can piss you off (and make you cry) like your little brother, no one understands you better.

His plane has taken off by now. For the next two months he'll be roaming Shanghai, Hunnan, Hangchow, Beijing, Hong Kong by himself. Then come September he'll be in Paris for the second half of his MBA. After that, I don't really know where Monkey is going. I'm really proud of the little runt. But I wish he'd be home more often. I miss my sparring partner. :T