The “Bad Brother” stories! Part I

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As I’m writing these entries, I’m aware that they are mostly positive. So, in an effort to balance out the reality, I’ll add what I call “Bad Brother” stories. Older brothers are supposed to watch out for younger siblings, providing direction and guidance. Well, when my mom decided to have more children after my sister and I, I took it well. It wasn’t until the beasts came into my world that it became very clear life had changed and would never return to what it was before. I used to snuggle with my mom and take little cat naps. She had a big club chair and I would snuggle down into the area between her and the chair. I think it was mohair. And I would tuck my nose into her underarm. People are grossed out when I say this, but in my world my mom smelled beautiful. And she didn’t have to be wearing perfume for me to feel this way. When I tucked my nose in there everything would go dark. But it wasn’t a scary dark. It felt wonderful and safe. My brother comes and that ended. Not only that, she had a second one. And now there were four of us. When the youngest of the brothers came, I decided I had had enough! So, I lay in wait watching him in his playpen standing there holding onto the top rail looking around. If I wasn’t so upset with him, I’d admit he was kind of cute but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. My mom commented over and over how he was the “bestest” baby in the world. And “if anybody doesn’t like this baby, there’s something wrong with him.” Well, there was something wrong with me for sure. And it was the existence of this baby. He was ruining my life. And he was so happy all the time. His happiness and my mother’s cooing over him made my life miserable. What about me? Huh? I was expected to keep the other brother entertained so I got little of mom’s attention. So, I lay in wait. He couldn’t see me. I was in another room peeking out seeing the best way to accomplish my mission. I’d show him. Babies are funny. They don’t seem to look at things for very long. I watched his interest move about the room and then into the items in the playpen. He had some pablum cookies, little rectangular wafers that tasted like a sugar cookie. I know cause I steal some when mom isn’t looking. He held one in his hand and seemed to forget it was in his hand from time to time. While he was looking toward the kitchen, I ran from the downstairs bedroom into where he was located in the living room. When I got close to where he was standing, I reached my hand into the crib and pinched his upper arm as hard as I could twisting the cute pink flesh til it was red. I was as mad as a six-year old could be. His response was immediate. His face looked at me puzzled as if to say, “hey, what are you doing?” It quickly changed to a hurt look and he began to cry. It was at that moment that I let his arm go and ran like the proverbial “bat outta hell.” I located myself back into the downstairs bedroom and peeked out to see my mom running into the room. She immediately picked him up and comforted him trying to figure out what happened. And I chuckled a little chuckle under my breath and thought, “mission accomplished.” The pinched brother is now one of my best friends, Jim. Funny how things change.

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Filed under Stories from my Childhood

Tags: babies, brothers, children, family, jealousy, life, mother, parenting, pinch, siblings