If I could measure the amount of emotional turmoil my little brother has put me through over the years, it would add up really fast. Having a little brother feels like involuntarily becoming a mother, except you’re the parent that has to entertain him when boredom hits. And you’re the one who gets to see his true colors.
Little Brothers will do anything for attention. The amazing thing is that they never get tired of the ongoing and never ending bothering. But in turn, the practiced art of ignoring them helps us develop patience.
Having brothers teaches us how to take care of boys. They’re loud, messy, and gross. We have no choice but to take care of them in an effort to neutralize their destructive tendencies.
The second you became an older sister of a little boy, you got that much tougher, and exponentially so as he grew older. Not only are brothers more physical, their ideas of “fun” tend to run a little on the wilder side. While some of our adventures and explorations as kids were fun, the amount of time I was pinned the target of a paintball hunt leaves too many bruises to count.
I can’t lie and say my little brother doesn’t make me laugh even though most of the times his efforts to achieve that do just the opposite. He’s inappropriate, loud, and most of the time doesn’t know when to quit, but sometimes he's the entertainment in my life.
But at the end of the day we’re happy to be the ones they come to when they need help tying a tie or they need advice for their first date. We deal with everything they put us through, but we wouldn't trade it for the world.
