I hugged my little bro for the last time (for a while) this morning. *sniff*. He is heading off to catch a plane bound for Sweden at 6pm tonight. It has been so, so nice to have him around. I figure it is the most amount of time we have spent together since we were little kids, amazingly. As teenagers, we crossed paths occassionally, exchanging nothing but a friendly punch on the arm in the hallway. It is so humbling to see him grown up into the sweet, loveable, growly-voiced bloke he is now. We are both trying to live good lives and be the decent people our parents brought us up to be.
He has been nothing but the easiest house-guest ever, washing up every night and tidying up after himself, offering his food-chopping services at every dinner. He raved about the meals we cooked him, and seemed perfectly happy to spend nights at home watching Peep Show on DVD, with the odd Aerobie outing.
Another bonus is witnessing the relationship between my boyfriend and my brother grow in front of my eyes. They hadn't spent much time together at all, so this visit has been a chance for my brother to scope out my long-term boyfriend and give him the family stamp of approval, and for my boyfriend to gain an honorary younger brother to whom he can pass on Mac-guru/martial arts-wisdom.
Now all I need is for my youngest brother and parents to get their butts over here. Or for my boyfriend to agree to move back to Melbourne with me. Or for someone to invent instantaneous travel, Star Trek style. Which would be my preferred option.