There’s a story about my younger brother and me that’s become a bit of a legend in my family. I would like to preface this story by saying that I find the attention a little unfair. Is the tale about the time I fearlessly protected him from a menacing neighborhood cat? (Granted, it was on the other side of a chain link fence, but it looked wily…not to be trusted.) No. Is the story about the times I selflessly agreed to play the “innocent prey” (his words, not mine) to his mountain lion/crocodile/animal obsession du jour as he ambushed me from the back of the couch? No.
The story is about the moment I realized he was ours. Not going anywhere. Sayonara, only-childom. Continue reading