Siblings

When I was a kid, I was hyper-verbal (shocker). My Dad taught me to talk early, and swears he’s regretted it every since. I was a mile-a-minute jabber jaw in pigtails. My brother on the other hand, didn’t talk until late. I’ve always said it was because he didn’t really need to. There was a big sister who was perfectly delighted to have an excuse to talk even more as she had someone else to express every thought and need for. I refer to this as the “Justin wants a cookie” factor.

I’ve always looked at this as a big factor in the fact that my brother is one taciturn son-of-a-gun. And he is. Takes a stick of dynamite to get him talking.

But recently I realized it probably did something to me too. The only way you can say “Justin wants a cookie” is to know that Justin wants a cookie. To sense someone else’s needs, unvoiced, possibly even before they realize them themselves. To feel a ripple in the fabric of the universe, a disturbance in the Force – when somebody wants a cookie.

Had we been a little closer in age, I would have been still figuring out when I wanted a cookie when Justin came along. Had we been a little further apart, I’d have been off doing my own thing. But he came along at just the right time to warp my little brain just perfect. I occasionally have this strange compulsion to make sure everybody has their cookies. You covered? You alright? Everybody has theirs? You don’t want a cookie? How about a brownie?

Sibling sh## is a bone-deep thing. It will rise up from some psychic nook you didn’t even know you had and you’ll find yourself doing things you barely understand for reasons that are so ingrained that they don’t even seem like choices any more. That’s just the way it is.