My brother

So, anyone that knows my brother and I knows that we started off a little rocky. He was the center of the universe and then I came along all dirty and whiny and I stole his thunder. For the first 10 years or so we spent our days fighting, manipulating each other, and smacking each other (someone had to sit in between us when we went somewhere in the car, so this meant that we were smacking each other OVER the person in the middle ). One of us would annoy the other, some sort of physical violence would ensue, and then I would implement the whining technique. This happened over and over for years. Our mom even cancelled Mother's Day one year because the two of us couldn't stop fighting long enough to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. There are a ton of pictures of us as kids because the only way we would instantly stop strangling each other was if my Mom pulled out the camera. Most of the pictures you can see James has a tight grip around my neck area.... Anyway, for years I have replayed all of the stories of James trying to kill me. Flinging me off the hammock (claims it was an "accident"), rolling me down the stairs in a suitcase (claims I "volunteered"), and even closing me in the garage door (still haven't actually heard the explanation for that one...). I realized I haven't told the stories about how he became a really great big brother. I was reminded of this because if you read the last blog, I was having a statistics meltdown. James sat on the phone with me for a long time and told me exactly what to do, and if it weren't for him, I don't think I would have gotten my work done in time. It reminded me of a time when I was starting high school. We went to a high school that was the size of a community college and it had a huge campus with many buildings. I had been sick the day my middle school got a tour and I had never stepped foot on the campus until my first day of 9th grade. I was so scared I wouldn't be able to find my classes. So, the night before, James drew me a map and a little course of how to get from one class to another. The next morning, he drove me to school (he was a senior) and I went on my own, terrified. There was one class I was particularly worried about finding. But, I pulled out the map, followed the line, and I found the room. I sat down in the class and I was so anxious because it was high school and there were a million kids everywhere, and I was lost all the time. I looked up and saw James looking through the window of the classroom. He had stopped by to make sure I had gotten there ok.
Even now when I remember that day I get teary because it was just the nicest thing. Following in Salkin tradition, when I looked up and saw him I did start crying a little and I immediately thought, oh this is great. First day of high school and I am going to be known as the girl that cries for no reason....
But anyway the point is that my brother stopped trying to kill me a long time ago, and I am so glad that we are friends. I just look at the first ten years as a hazing ritual...and now i'm in the gang...