Little Brothers


Little brothers. The one thing in life that causes you more trouble than any amount of school work you may have. I have two little brothers. Cute kids provided they aren’t awake but, unfortunately, they usually are awake (long before I’m up mind you) and already making mischief.

Any day of the week these two boys are up and ready to go when the alarm goes off – not counting those days when there’s a tickle in the throat… then they mope around hoping mom will allow them to stay home and rest up – but as soon as Sunday is here they are like large slabs of fish in the bed. Every Saturday without fail they are up before dawn just to have a chance to be the first on the PS2 but heaven forbid they should get up at 8:30 to go to Sunday School.

Likewise, they are completely capable of being nice and sometimes even get protective of others in the family but the moment the pizza is late showing up on the door or the second you refuse to travel to Blockbuster, it’s the cold shoulder to you.

They wrestle the keyboard from you while you’re trying to write, sing loudly in your ear while you’re on the phone, tell the dogs to leap on you when you’re in tights, encourage the dogs to lick your face, demand a large amount of time on the telephone line and generally make life more exciting in many ways you’d never imagine were possible.

And that’s where I want to be. I want to be with my brothers as we try to decide the best way to have a Scandanavian theme in that bedroom, as we argue and debate over religion and as we all sit and watch the BritComs on Saturday. Hey boys! When I get home let’s hit Smoothie King and rent a game. Someday I’ll need to start working but until then, we’ll hang about and be lazy.

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