My Brother and Me

I'm going to be tempted to block you if you're an 80s baby and don't know where this title comes from.

This is Post #11 - My Siblings. Or sibling, in my case. Not that I don't technically have other siblings, but my older brother is the only one bonded to me by blood and household. My brother is also the only one I consider a best friend. We are four years apart and as different as we are alike. We've been mistaken for fraternal twins more than once. He is more like my mother than he cares to admit. I am more like my father than I wish to be. There are good and bad traits on both side. When we clash, we clash hard: He is more dramatic; I am more hard and stoic. We both have short tempers, but his is far shorter and more impressively explosive than mine, at least until you press all of my wrong buttons the right way (more on that below). We love even harder, though: I've been known to get in the ass of niggas and bitches alike over my brother. We are both fiercely loyal, ridiculously smart, and even more ridiculously goofy.

We used to fight a lot - A Lot - as children. We've had some pretty spectacular battles.*lol* When I was really young and he was a lot bigger, he would sit on me and bite me. (He broke skin more than once!) Puberty hit me harder than it hit him, at first, though, so for about a year or two we were the same height and I was a little stronger (young woman strength vs. teenage boy strength). He had a good deal of pounds on me at the time, but I was a bit of a wild animal - aggressive as hell, quick as fuck, mean as shit, and heavy-handed. He was not, despite both of us having martial arts training.

I can still remember the day of our last fight. It was the first - and only - time I beat him up. I'd won some little spats before, but this was different.  We were in the den, he hit me in the face for some reason, and I lost my shit (Note: To this day, if you hit me in my face, I will go Christmas ham on you. I think it's a blatant display of hate and disrespect.). I guess he could tell because he took off running down the hallway. I caught up to him, slammed his back up against the wall, and started teeing off on him, giving him no chance to hit me back. He started blocking most of my shots on his arms and shoulders, so I took to kneeing him in the sides and stomach, instead. He grabbed and held my left leg, so I used his hold for leverage and jumped up and kneed him with the right one. It was quite impressive, if I do say so myself. I finally stopped once he was doing more covering up than looking for an opening to strike back.

Mind you, my mother had been in her room, not two feet away, going about her business the whole time. He had been fucking with me that week, though, so I guess she said he had it coming, and, as long as we weren't breaking anything or bleeding (I think I busted his lip and/or nose, though.), she wasn't gonna get involved. *lol* It was one of her best parenting decisions. We never fought again.

Since then, we have made music together, created an animated series together, seen each other through hellaciously bad and trying times together, and discovered that we have even more in common than even we would have guessed.

There is nothing like having someone in your corner who's there by fate and by choice.

Monkey loves you, Orangutan! *lol* I don't know if you read my blog or not, but just in case, I have embarrassed the both of us for old times sake. *muah* Smile.