My name is Stephanie, I am a Brandt, one of many. I come from a resplendently proud and stately family who’s sledding greatness will echo throughout eternity.
My father is the great Chris Brandt, of whom nothing more needs to be said. All should stand in awe and remove your hats when his eminent name is spoken.
I have two brothers, their marks of greatness are like gleaming golden helmets that I dimly try to pursue.
The first is Leedoo Brandt, his profusion of useless knowledge astounds all who hear it. The master of tree finding, backwards carving, and running clutches together. His exulted proficiency at being towed leaves everyone in breathless in wonderment.
Then there is Aughole Brandt. His distinguished aura will always surround him, causing his followers to faint in his wake of greatness. A magnificent say-er of dimwitted sayings and finder of the elusive REV compass. His skills on a sled and dirt bike are legendary, never will be forgotten is the stuck in the Pit-of-No-Return and the subsequent dunking the Puddle-of-Doom.
My boyfriend is the imposing Might-As-Well-Make-It-Brant-Brandt (wyrider.) He has recently gained an immense honor. For when he chased an enormous grizzly down a steep hill and showed absolutely no fear when he realized that he was unable to climb back up. He showed the kind of resounding senselessness it takes to be a Brandt. For that, and the incident with hotel key and the truck door, he has been proclaimed for all to hear a Real Brandt.
One day I pray that I might be able to live up the heritage of my family.
