My big brother Aaron and I were almost 3 years 11 months apart. The same articles claim this is the worst child spread. I have to disagree.
My mom says that when I was born, Aaron regressed. He started whining, he didn't want to feed himself, and he generally had a tough time of life for a bit. I'm here to say that Sammy did the same thing. He's still going through it. But I know he loves his sister.
How can you doubt that?
And I know she loves him. She crawled in his lap over and over, wrapped her arms around his neck, and laughed and laughed.
And I know that I loved my brother as a baby. Growing up, I vividly remember my big brother, Aaron. He was so cool. For some reason, he always wanted to sit on me and fart on me. And he always wanted me to smell it. He'd say, "Lindsey, it smells like strawberries, I swear!" And I'd say, "Aaron, you said that last time and it stunk really bad." And he would respond, "This time it really does."
I'm so gullible. I'd take a whiff, and I would be SOOOOO pissed. It NEVER smelled like strawberries. And I would smack him and run off. But every time, I listened to Aaron. He was my big brother - why would he lie to me?
One time when I was in the 4th grade, Aaron decided that he wanted to start a fart collection. He said that we could fart in jars, put the lid on real quick so the smell would still be there, and label each jar with the date, time, and what we'd eaten beforehand. Aaron thought this was such a good idea that while on a family vacation and eating at Steak and Ale, he actually farted in a cup. No one would have known, but I announced, "MOOOOOOM, Aaron farted in a cup!" at the top of my lungs, and then everyone in the restaurant knew. I bet my parents were super proud . . .
When I was a junior in high school, someone stole my band sign. In high school, it was popular to have a wooden sign in your yard listing what activities you were involved in. The band signs were a music note. Several weeks earlier, someone had stolen my band sign from our yard. I wasn't alarmed, as this was quite a common event. Usually you would find your sign planted along IH-10 on the way to school, so it wasn't a big deal, but my sign didn't show up for a long time. I had forgotten about it.
Several months later, my band sign reappeared. Someone had painted over the sign, changing the name "Lindsey" on it to something quite unflattering, and changing the KTB (Katy Tiger Band) words on it to a more unflattering picture. That same person had attempted to cement the sign into my parent's front yard. My big brother, Aaron, home from college at SHSU, saw the cement attempt, and immediately pulled it out of the yard, and proceeded to repaint it in the backyard before I could see the damage. To this day, I have never seen what the sign looked like before Aaron fixed it. I only saw the "After" picture. And to this day, I am grateful to him for trying to shield me from that.
My big brother has come through for me so many times. I hope I've done the same for him. I remember one day in April 2006, when he showed up on my doorstep at 10 pm. I hadn't talked to him in several months, and yet, when he showed up at that time with a toothbrush in hand, my husband and I looked at him, said, "Need a place to stay?" He nodded sheepishly, and we said "Come on in, brother."
I love you, Aaron. Thank you for farting on me when we were growing up. Thank you for painting my band sign. And thank you, most of all, for being you. I know that I can always depend on you, even when I just need you to come over for a bit to watch my kids so I can get my hair done before my husband gets home. I love you, Bubba!
No comments:
Post a Comment