My brother is nine and a half years younger than me. When my mom had him, she thought it would be a perfect age difference because I would help out all the time and baby-sit and other stuff like that. She didn’t expect us to fight. Well, she did a little bit, but not nearly how much we do now! We fight non-stop…when were not fighting—we’re either at school, or we’re eating or its because we’re separated from fighting. I love my brother more than you could ever believe but nine and a half years is a big gap! Since, he’s in first grade in elementary school and I’m in tenth grade in high school- we have our differences.
I believe that my brother and I will eventually stop fighting. My dad believes that if we don’t stop fighting while we are young — we never will and as we grow up we will constantly argue. I believe him to an extent, but I also believe that my brother and I will stop fighting as kids and we will eventually settle out our arguments.
I know this will sound kind of mean, but I some what think of my brother like a car. You know the old saying, when you take a car to the mechanic- it doesn’t make the weird noise is did before? Well, my brother and I are always nice to each other if there is company over or our friends over. But, as soon as they leave- its like they were never here.
I’m guessing that the reason we fight so much is because of all of the differences we have and being nine years older, I believe that I’m his boss. That I can tell him what to do. But, I can’t. I’m not his mom—I’m not supposed to tell him how to live his life. People don’t tell me how to live mine.
If my brother gets hurt — I’m right by his side. ALL THE TIME! I do love him. I just think I have some trouble showing it. I have to learn to ease up with him, and not show him whose boss. Since, I’m not his.
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