Today, I got into a huge argument with my brother. We are six years apart. At what age is this nonsense supposed to end? And to think, I was super excited when he was born. Now, all he does is yell, complain, mope, and bark. I guess this argument was all my fault for not allowing him to strong-arm and overrun a conversation he was not even a part of. I will not be bullied by my kid brother. My bad.
Family, am I right? When I used to get into tween spats with my mom, my grandma would say, "Well, you don't get to choose your family." I'm not so sure. I have heard that there are cultures that believe that the spirits of babies choose their parents or that the family you are born into is all a part of some type of divine plan. This evening, I wanted to dropkick my brother. How's that for divinity?
My mom had four siblings, and now three of them are gone, including her. I know the importance of valuing your brothers and sisters better than the average Joe. I know a lot of people who are only children, so I also know how lucky I am to have brothers and sisters. I love and appreciate them. That doesn't mean that I don't often fantasize about stomping on my brother's foot. He thinks I don't hear him, and I know he doesn't hear me. At times, he can be truly unbearable. I didn't choose him, so I guess I should just love him, even though that is easier said than done, and I would much rather love to elbow him in the ear. Little brothers, am I right?
No comments:
Post a Comment