My Duty as a Little Brother

Chapter 3

My parents had three daughters before they were privileged to have me. That means that I grew up with four different moms at once. Each of them had their own parenting style and they all took it upon themselves to try and raise me. I think it probably took all of their efforts to mold me into the person I am today. At the time I wasn’t grateful for the extra restrictions they put on me, so I did my best to be the little brother of a lifetime.

Everyone knows that the stereotype of a little brother is the epitome of annoying. Back to the dictionary, for another definition to make sure we are on the same page. Annoy means to irritate or make angry. I pride myself in the fact that I helped to create the stereotype for all little brothers. I have always taken my jobs seriously, at least most of the time. It all started with my first job and that was to be the little brother to three sisters.

For starters, I wasn’t allowed to ever go into my sister’s room, except when I shared a room with Liz. That didn’t last very long anyway. With that said my sisters might be surprised to find out that I spent a lot of my spare time exploring their rooms while they were out with their friends. Most of this happened while we lived in our house on Eastman Dr. That means I was younger than ten years old. I perfected the art of memorizing how things were so I could always put them back together.

The first lesson that should be learned from this account is the following. If a little boy isn’t allowed to do something, the allure of doing that thing always grows. In lay mans terms for all the sisters out there. If you tell you little brother not to do something 9 times out of 10 he will accomplish the feat. I was no different from the average boy. The excitement of sneaking around against the rules fueled the fire inside of me.

For the sake of time and pages I will condense some examples of how I magnified my calling as a little brother in our family. We had a dog named Maggie, who liked to eat things. On a few occasions I was able to feed my sisters barbies to Maggie. Most of the barbies’ hands and feet were got chewed off by Maggie. I loved to knock on my sister’s doors and run. I know that drove them crazy because they would get fed up and chase me down the hall. The only reason I am alive right now is probably because I am faster than they are.

I have a talent that has made me proud since I can remember. I used to listen to my Dad whistling and new that someday I had to learn how to whistle on my own. Luckily I learned very quickly how to whistle. I’ll admit when I first started I was really annoying, but I mastered the talent quickly. Soon I could whistle whatever tune I wanted. Today you can ask me to whistle just about any hymn and I can do it. I don’t know how it works but I just start whistling and the tune comes out perfectly. I tell you this because my sisters hated my talent. The more they hated it the more I did it. That is how I mastered the art of whistling so soon. I spent many long hours whistling just to get under my sister’s skin.

Emily liked to collect every flavor of chapstick imaginable. She had flavors ranging from Dr. Pepper to the normal mint. When I was younger I thought that if they smelled so good they must taste good also. I specifically remember stealing her collection and hiding behind the chair in the family room, where I proceeded to sample each of the chapsticks. Sadly I found out that smells can be deceiving. Of course I didn’t learn that lesson from the first stick; I had to continue taste testing until I was sick. I don’t remember how Emily reacted, but I am sure she wasn’t happy about having her collection of chapstick eaten.

Whenever my sisters had a party I took it upon myself to spill all their secrets. I also thought that their friends adored me. This was probably due to the fact that I had crushes on most of their friends. With these two attributes combined I ruined many of their little parties. Usually the phrases “MOM, ROBBY IS BOTHERING US! or MOM, GET ROBBY OUT OF HERE!” were worn out by the end of their party. You might ask me if I regret being a pain in the neck, but the answer is no. I loved every minute of it. Except for the many spankings, and hours spent sitting on the chair, which was my worst punishment.

When Megan started dating her future husband Mica, I developed another of my duties. I took it upon myself to be the spy and informer to my parents. I would watch for anything that I could make public. I usually tried to walk as quietly as I could so I could get the dirt on Megan. I remember one time I walked down the stairs at the wrong time. When I rounded the last stair and peaked around the corner I caught Megan and Mica making out. The minute I realized what they were doing I was running up the stairs screaming for mom. About halfway up the stairs I felt a hand wrap around my ankle. It was all over from there. I got dragged down the stairs kicking and screaming by Megan, who decided that she was going to teach me that spying was not nice and also that she didn’t care if I saw her kissing. She held onto my arm while she and Mica proceeded to kiss forcing me to watch. I was young enough that I thought it was disgusting. The minute she let go I was on my way to tell my mom, who apparently didn’t care all that much to my surprise.

When I was a little older I had to get more creative with my duties. Liz was the closest to me in age, so she naturally was the brunt of most of my little brother abilities. When she was a sophomore in high school Jess, my little brother, and I would ride the bus to the high school where we would catch a ride with my sisters home. We were specifically instructed to wait outside next to the car for them. I quickly realized if I went to Liz’s locker she would hurry a lot faster to get out of the school. She also hated that Jess and I were inserting us into her very important social life. Since we got home earlier and she hated it so much, we continued to show up at her locker. I never understood how bothersome it really was until I was a junior in high school and my girlfriend’s little brother would show up at her locker to wait for a ride. It was still worth it.

I know that all three of my sisters have been praying that I have a little boy just like me. Most likely it will happen and Britney will understand who I am a lot better than she does now. Little brothers are a blessing in their sister’s lives. I taught and prepared my sisters for their futures as Mothers, especially Liz. The bottom line is that I learned all of my sisters buttons, and I knew how to push them. I also knew how many times I could push them before getting hurt. However, from the previous chapter you can guess that there were a few times mixed in there, where I pushed the button one to many times.

I have to say one more thing on this subject in my defense before I end this section. I stated earlier that I had four moms, who raised me. My real mom is not the only one, who punished me. I would take one of her punishments any day over my sisters. Hers were usually fair. Since I had four moms I also had four times as many punishments. The punishments usually consisted of hair getting pulled or their finger nails being dug into my arm. It was always an adventure and I learned how to deal with a little bit of pain here and there. Now realize that those were a few selections for an example’s sake. In all reality they are just scraping the tip of the iceberg.