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Picture it: Cicily, 1920...
Wait, no... wrong intro. Hang on a sec...
*shut musty book of rerun memories with a bang - cough at escaping dust cloud...
...open cobweb-covered chest of childhood memories - lean in, rummaging...
...climb into chest with a clatter, tossing items around...
*owl
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I'm glad you and the youngest brother have reached a non-homicidal phase in your relationship. My younger sister and I eventually got there, and things were much easier after that. :)
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Actually, by the time my brother and I got into high school, we'd both more or less accepted each other as okay, since being so close in age, our social circles occasionally had some minor overlap, so we got to see one another through the lenses of a handful of friends, and less as obstacles to each other's contentment... I think it helped that my brother mellowed out enough to stop pushing my big shiny red buttons so much, and I learned to laugh at myself and take a joke. It wasn't until we were both adults, though, that I think we realized we loved and respected each other.
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