There comes a time in most older siblings' lives that we don’t want to admit. I have come to that time and I hate to say it, but I think my younger sibling is way cooler than me. I don’t know how it happened or when, but this is really hitting me hard. My parents always told me there’d come a day when my younger sibling would be not so small and weird and easy to pick on anymore, and OK, Mom and Dad, you’re good.
When my little sister was younger, she was pretty weird. Yeah, I was too but I was convinced she was worse off than I was. Up until recently (and by that I mean currently), I’ve called her my little brother just to smite her. When she was in middle school and when I was a mean teenager, I even gave her a male nickname. I called her “Steven” exclusively for a good portion of three years, and it was the best thing I ever did. It used to be hilarious calling her by a man’s name because, like most middle schoolers, there were days she looked like a girl and some days we just didn’t know. Recently though, I have noticed, my sister looks way better than I ever did. She even tried on my old prom dress last week and looked better than I did. This is what rock bottom feels like.
Besides her new found looks, something I’m even still waiting for, she’s not so easy to mess around with anymore. It used to be my favorite thing to pin her to the ground and really bully her like older siblings are supposed to. My favorite thing to do was to wait around until she had to use the bathroom, and as she headed for it, attack her and tickle her until she would almost physically lose it. Looking back now, that is just torture and I miss those days. Sadly, there came a time not too long ago where she proved her dominance. We decided to have an old fashioned fist fight in our backyard for fun. I went into it very confidently. Though my limbs may be long, noodley and lacking in any muscle, being older I thought I had it in the bag. Thirty seconds into the fight, she pushed me into a pine tree, where I cut my face and ran off covered in pine needles and the smell of defeat. Well played.
Just to top it all off, besides being physically better and tougher in every way, my younger sibling is just simply cool now. She may be cooler than I ever was and ever will be. She has so many talents and hobbies and a sense of humor that cannot be topped. You could probably tell from everything about me that I am not athletically inclined at all. My sister plays basketball for her high school, and I have to say, she is fabulous. It's a very cool thing to watch her do something I would never even try and to watch her teammates and how much they all love her for her personality and sense of humor.
I have never said this to her face—that’d be too tough to admit but it is true. The younger siblings are the silent killer, they wait to attack. When they do, they strike hard. I would suggest being nice to them when they are small and weak, because there will come a day when they push you into a pine tree and a part of you dies. But to my younger sibling, and I mean this from the bottom of my kind of mean heart, you’re awesome.
Love you, little bro.
