Siblings can switch from Lucifer’s spawn mode to momma’s little angel in a split-second. Only you know their true form and trying to expose the truth to your parents when you are the oldest sibling will do you no good. Having to deal with their stupid tantrums and tattle-tale tendencies can be morally strenuous. My kid brother is 17 and I am 23. It is an understatement if I say we have got issues. As I think back to those simpler times, it was just him that I had to deal with. When it came to physically eliminating the threat and by that, I mean interminable days filled with bickering, arm-slapping and telling on one another. With an age gap of six years, mum and dad were never surprised when each one of us individually approached them with complaints. Mostly, dad would shrug and ask me to cut the little guy some slack, much to my agitation, of course. He would soon be met with a string of whines like – ‘This is so unfair.’ Or ‘he started it!’
To be honest, we fought over the most stupid things in the world. Then again, we wouldn’t be siblings if we didn’t. The primary reason behind every fight would be food. He always depleted the chocolate stock from the freezer and not to mention cartons of fruit yoghurt which he manages to nick from my share! Although mum divides our share of anything she bought for us from the supermarket, he always found my hiding spot and ransacks it. Throwing a tantrum after such a situation wasn’t uncommon in our household and especially when he touches my leftover portion of KFC or Pizza! All hell breaks loose then and mum knew better than to stoke the dragon, so she carefully concealed my share in a safe place only she knew where.
Baby brothers are total snitches, but we know that all too well. Growing up, we had strict parents which kept us both on the edge. My dad was quite the baddie when it came to shunning contact with boys. Not that I cared too much because I wasn’t the one to look for a serious (ridiculous) relationship in high school! I had guy friends, though, and it would pose a problem when they called me on the home phone. Yes, that was a time when I didn’t own a cell phone like most kids at school, hence, the landline addiction.
However, did I manage to lull my rage when my brother threatened to tattle about my phone calls to dad, I don’t know. But somehow, we ended up making deals with one another. Most of which involved him getting my larger share of chocolates. Eventually, we found our middle ground – Lord of the Rings trilogy and Harry Potter saga marathons. That was the foundation of our peacekeeping treaty. Even today I grin when I reminisce about our countless vacations when we repetitively watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy, much to my mother’s torment.
Our magic of warmth moments comprised of innumerable movie marathons and sizzling butter popcorn. Occasionally, we would swap the popcorn with leftover chicken soup but what the hell. We would forget the sibling rivalry and revel in the warmth of the blanket fort. It was worth every minute of my time. In times like those, I realise that I love that little hammerhead of a brother!