If I had no one to raise hell with, life would get pretty boring. The "picture perfect" thing is to have that protective older brother. I guess I got somewhere in the middle with mine. Brendan isn't only my little brother, he has grown to be my best friend. Through the years, we have argued... quite a bit. To this day, we still punch each other and fight and curse and all the things that siblings are supposed to do, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Growing up, I literally begged for a little sister. I wanted to have that little girl that I could dress up and play with. Instead, I got a little brother who loved to wear different pairings of neon colors and insisted on playing in the mud. There were times, though, when I forced him to play with me. For a good number of years, I would turn our third floor into a classroom and force him to attend "school." I guess you could say my passion for becoming a teacher got the best of me. I mean, I think he secretly liked it, but I know that he hated it too. There was also the phase when I would dress him in my dress-up clothes and put him in mom's high heels. He enjoyed that, but dad didn't care too much for it. Nowadays he focuses all his time on his hockey and girls, but I guess that's what you get from any 15-year-old boy.

Now on to the protective part. He does some twittered sort of reverse psychology. It's really pretty evil. I bring a boy home to meet the family and before I even have the chance to say his name, Brendan knows where he works, what he loves and already has a fishing trip planned for the two of them. I will never forget the one night I was riding home in a boy's truck. When we pulled up, Brendan was sitting on the stairs waiting for me. He tries his hardest to be intimidating, but it doesn't really work. Not only is he protective, but so am I. Being a hockey sister isn't easy. Watching some "little boy" who is supposed to be fifteen, but actually has facial hair, push around my brother... oh heck no. It isn't fun, and I don't go unheard. You hit my brother with one of your dirty hits and you WILL hear my wrath.

At the end of the day, we fight. We yell fairly loud and we take it a few steps too far sometimes. No matter how hard the day was, though, we always come back to having each other's backs no matter what. It turns out the little brother I never wished for is the little brother I didn't have to wish for.