Not so much because I was going to be a big sister (finally!! Someone below me on the sibling food chain!!), but because I had won a bet with my Dad. He bet on it being another girl, my sisters and I all bet it was going to be a boy.
When we went to the hospital, I was a bit disappointed that we weren't allowed to see my Mum, but I soon forgot all about that when we were taken to the nursery where all the newborn babies were being kept. Of course we weren't allowed in- my Dad just held me up to the glass and pointed at a baby in the corner (they all looked the same to me- wrapped in blue blankets, with only their little scrunched up faces showing, yelling like their lives depended on it), and said 'There's your brother.''
I was a little underwhelmed, to be honest. I mean, why couldn't I go in? I'd washed my face and hands before we went to the hospital. I'd been so excited to see the baby and thought I'd have
A few months down the line, my Mum was back home and back on her feet again. The baby had grown, and was moved into my room, while my sister Asiimwe upgraded to her own room, since Kaine was at boarding school.
It was nice. At first.
Then the little shit would wake up at all hours, crying and carrying on, and interrupting my blissful, My-Little-Pony dreams. As in, come on. I didn't sign up for this!
The final straw was the day my little brother, after being fed, projectile vomited down my back. Dude took special care NOT to miss my hair. I call malice aforethought. I don't care if he was only 8 months old. He puked on me, then smiled. Everyone else said it was relief, but I know he was laughing at me.
But I digress.
This is meant to be a Gratitude List.
Don't get me wrong. I love my brother. We're all grown up now. He's a strapping lad, intelligent and funny and capable of eating his weight in food. Much as our first experience as room mates didn't work out too well, we are now house mates and so far, the place hasn't burned down.
Peace, yo. Now leave me alone.
I'm kidding. We're good friends, laugh ALOT and have endless conversations about all sorts of things. I do have to remind him sometimes that I am his BIG SISTER, even if he is taller than me.
This pose just seemed appropriate.
And once in a while, I like to look back to a time when I had this little person looking up to me, thinking I was cool and knew everything about everything. My biggest regret is that he grew up to be an Arsenal fan.
But you can't have everything.
Here's to being a big sister to a little (big) brother. It's pretty damn cool.
Fancy dress Pirates. Arrr.