Dearest Brother of Mine

Sometimes, I can't stand my little brother. All the time, actually. He follows me around everywhere, tagging along like a puppy. Only puppies are cuter. When I go online, he hovers over my shoulder, making comments and remarks about the conversations I'm having. When I'm not supposed to be on, he says in an annoyingly loud voice, "Are you allowed to be on? Have you finished your homework? How about piano? Did Mommy say you can?" I shake my head at him angrily and sign off. Jeez, why can't he just leave me alone? My younger brother thinks that everything is unfair. He continually complains about everything. "How come her ice cream scoop is bigger than mine?" he whines. "Why does she get more candies than me?" I sigh and of course, like a good big sister, I give him some of my ice cream and candy. Whenever we get into a fight, guess who gets into trouble? Without a doubt, it's always me. And I mean always.

One time, we were sitting in the back of our car, arguing over who gets to deal the cards. He can't deal. He can't even shuffle. "You should really let Rudy play. He's younger, you know," my mom admonishes in Chinese. "Try and be fair with him." A voice inside my head screams in frustration. Why is it always my fault? As she turns her back, my brother sticks his tongue out at me and crosses his eyes. Immature little brat. When I ignore him, he gets tired of making faces at me. Instead, he stares out the window at passing cars, humming tunelessly. After about half an hour, the humming starts to annoy me. I try to get it across to my parents, but one is sleeping and the other is driving. I give up and try covering my ears. When we finally arrive, my brother jumps out of the car, and dashes for the front door. He has to make sure that he is the one to ring the doorbell. As soon as my aunt opens the door, he rushes inside and begins a non-stop stream of loquacious chattering. I pray that he will realize that he's running out of oxygen and stop talking. After dinner, my brother and cousins run downstairs to play video games. Nintendo 64. I can hear my brother arguing with my cousins about which player he wants to be in Smash Brothers. Arguing already? I try to concentrate on the book I brought with me, but a new dispute has begun. Giving up, I go downstairs to see what the problem is. My brother claims that he should have won, because Mike kept cheating. Rudy challenges him to a rematch. I sigh and shake my head sadly. Oy vey. "Fine, fine, have it your way Rudy," he says. He sets a new game. Throughout the whole thing, you can hear Rudy's sound effects. A sudden shout jolts me back to the present. "Yes!! I win! I win!" my brother shrieks. Mike winks at me. He did it on purpose! He let my spoiled little brother win the game, and Rudy was just too stupid to realize it! I rolled my eyes and went back upstairs.

The ride home was the best part of the night. My little brother, exhausted from an evening of torturing me, had finally fallen asleep. Sighing, I leaned my head against the window and fell asleep. A sticky finger poked itself in my face. Ugh. "Whadda you want?" I mumble sleepily. "I'm bored!" my brother whines. "I wanna play cards!" Sighing, I took out the pack of cards, and began to play Spit with him.

*I've changed the names of my brother and cousin. Most of the time, though, I'm not as nice as I made myself look.