Brother vs. Sister

 First of all, let me say that I love my brother. He is two years younger than me and if
anyone messes with or hurts him, that person is going to wind up in the hospital. And I
will be in jail screaming, "That's what you get for messing with my little brother!" I use the
term "little brother" loosely because he is a good foot and a half taller than me and also
out weights me by about sixty pounds. He's basically a brick wall and doesn't need my
protection. However, he is my brother and I would fight to the death for him.

That being said, it still amazes me that we didn't manage to kill each other when we
were children. We got into at least one fight every single day. I'm not talking just name-
calling. I mean punching, kicking, biting, tear your eyes out fights. Our mom would get
nervous if we went more than two or three days without fighting. She knew that the next
fight was going to be a destroy the room, bloody mess. We became quite good at not
making loud noises while we fought, because we knew that would bring Mom into it.
Then we would have to listen as she yelled at us for fighting and then get punished for
the fighting. So we became very good at stealth fighting.

My brother and I both had horrible tempers when we were younger. We both knew
how to push each other's buttons. Our fights were pretty even until he started growing
taller and I basically stayed the same size. And he was diagnosed as being hyperactive
or having ADD. Then they gave him Ritalin to calm him down. It did not calm him down.
It made him grumpy and very bad tempered. I felt like was living with the Incredible
Hulk and I was his punching bag. The day they took him off those pills was one of the
happiest days of my life. And let's not forget his wrestling phase. I assure you that a
figure-four leg lock hurts a lot. I never knew when he was going to come up behind me
and put me in a Full or Half Nelson and tell me that I had to break out of it because
it could save my life one day. The martial arts phase was not that bad because when
he tried the high kick, I just grabbed his leg and flipped him to the ground. At least I did
until he learned to counter that. To this day, I don't know how he managed to do that.

I was not a sweet little angel that was always getting my ass kicked. I gave as good as
I got. No punches were pulled and we both fought to win. Neither of us gave or asked
for any quarter. The only rule was the first to scream uncle was the loser.

Somehow, we made through our childhood alive. The fights gradually stopped and
we called a truce. Now there is nothing we won't do for each other. We managed
to learn to control our tempers but we are still very good at pushing each others
buttons. But we never hang up the phone or part without saying "I love you" to
each other. He is my strongest ally and to get to him, you have to go through me
first. The brother-sister bond is strong with us. And we wouldn't have it any other way.