The Perfect One

I've reminded my mom a few times that today is the anniversary of the first walk on the moon (as opposed to the first moonwalk...I'm not sure when Michael Jackson pulled that off). My mom forgets because it's also Ammon's birthday...a day much more significant to her.


And rightly so. Because he's the Perfect One. My mom said it took 6 kids to finally get a perfect child. This would bother me but I think she's right.


Ammon is tall and gangly, witty and good at fixing things just like my other brothers. He graduated from BYU like my sisters and me.


But he's also Different.


While the rest of us are loud (and kind of obnoxious), he's pretty quiet.


While the rest of us are sort of co-dependent, he's independent.


While the rest of us tend to brag and talk a lot about ourselves, Ammon is extremely humble.


Perfect.


He's also movie star handsome. That's what my mom's friend decided. If I had my own pictures to attach to this blog (instead of coming to you live from the Shine 'N Chrome in Wells, NV), I would insert a picture here and you could see what I mean.


Since I am 10 years older than him, Ammon thinks I'm impossibly old. Which is OK because for a long time he was frozen as the 8 year old boy he was when I graduated from high school. He was a cute 8 year old. He took sun protection very seriously. He wore long sleeve shirts and a hat always "because he didn't want to get skin cancer". He rode his bicycle until he got extremely sweaty (under all those clothes) then he'd come inside for a drink out of the water bottle he carefully kept in the refrigerator. He loved guns (I have a picture of him sleeping with his brand new BB gun on his 8th birthday) and sports (I have a picture of him shooting baskets while standing on an overturned 5 gallon bucket). He wanted to "be Enoch's hired man" when he grew up and he had a grand plan that he needed to marry a wife with a ladder so he could build a house after he got married.


(I didn't know Melanee well when they got married but I instantly knew I'd love her when she gave Ammon a ladder for a wedding gift.)


Every year for Ammon's birthday he wanted to go to nearby Boulder Creek for a weiner roast.


Ammon at eight.


I'm sorry I went to college and missed the rest of his growing up years.


Once when I was home visiting and he was in high school, he came home from a track meet. My mom said, "How was it, Ammon?"


He said, "Fine."


"Did you do well?"


He shrugged.


"Did you win?"


"Yeah."


"How high did you jump?" (high jump was his event)


He told her and she said, "Isn't that beating your record?"


He said yes.


"Is that breaking the school record?"


He said yes. Then he added that he thought it broke the state record too.


Anyone else in our family would have certainly led with that little fact.


But not Ammon. My dad told him once he would be a spectacular prisoner of war. It's difficult to get a lot of information out of him.


He was on the BYU track team also. Once he was talking on the phone to my dad who was trying to get information about a track meet.


My dad said, "So did you jump?"


"Yes."


"Did you get high?"


"They don't let us do that at BYU."


Ammon. My baby brother. The Perfect One.

Happy Birthday.


I forgive you for stuffing me in the coat closet when you got bigger than me. I'm sorry that Marianne and Olivia and I always thought we were your mothers too.


If you were here I'd be first in line for the weiner roast at Boulder.


I love you.