I have a love and loathe kind of relationship with my two year older brother. He was protective at school, but I was not allowed to look at him at school, let alone talk to him. When the class bitch pushed me down the steps of a school coach after a swimming trip, he jumped off the wall he was sitting on with his oh so cool mates and slapper her across the face.
Everyone froze except me and my heroic bro, we moved thought the pause of people quickly, my knees red hot from the pavement scrape.
I thought right there and then to myself ‘wow, my brother is a super-hero!’ He’s done the same sort of thing on and off over the years; after a particularly nasty work incident he told me he could arrange to have their ‘palms blow torched’ as much as I would have loved to say yes, I declined. This is the same brother who once put all my soft toys in the big chest freezer we had in the garage as a joke, I can still remember that the ears of my Snoopy were stuck frozen to the side of his head. He also gave me some plaque disclosing tablets telling me they were new sweets; I foam pink at the mouth all the way home. Siblings, brothers, sisters and brothers and sisters can be vile to one another but I reckon most of the time they have your back even when you are 45. What stories my two boys, the teenager and his younger brother will have when they are older I have no idea!