For nine blissful years, I was the baby of the family, and it was an enviable thing to be. Then on a stormy night in August, he arrived and dethroned me from that comfortable position. A squalling, dark-headed, diaper-bottomed creature took up residence in our house. He was wrinkly, smelly, and noisy, and I fell head-over heels.
I played with him, carted him around, kissed him and made up songs about him. I adored him -- until he was about five. Somewhere in there he became a nuisance. Maybe it was when he turned Ninja turtle, fighting off the bad guys with a pillow stuffed in the back of his shirt and a plastic sword belted to it. Maybe it was when he and his little friends acted as secret agents and would snoop on my sophisticated friends and me.
I have been honored to watch my little brother grow from being a big baby to being one of my biggest blessings. . . .