My brother is moving out. After 22 years of him rarely leaving his room we finally get to kiss him goodbye. Now most siblings would be sad, or at least pretend to be sad for their sibling’s sakes, but not me. Oh definitely not me. He’s been a pain in my a** since the day I was born.

When I was barely three years old he convinced me to shove a chess piece up my nostril to see if it would fit. Well, it fit on the way up but the bishop put up quite a struggle coming back out. I had to go to the emergency room to get it surgically removed! And if that’s not bad enough he didn’t stop there, he wouldn’t stop taking pictures of me with his crappy old camera! It’s been fourteen years and he still hasn’t gotten the film developed, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t one of these days.

People always said that he would grow out of it, that it was just a mischievous phase, but this was not phase! Four years later he was still doing everything he possibly could to drive me crazy. 2nd grade and I was about to have my first ever birthday party! I had just bought a new pink dress to watch the strawberry shortcake theme of my party. Everything went great, we had a piñata and pin the tail on the donkey and ate tons of cake and everyone had a fabulous time. That is, until it was time to go. I handed out the goodie bags, excited to see everyone’s faces when they saw how great they were, but instead was greeted with disgust and contempt. Somehow he had managed to spit in every single one of the bags and eat all the candy! All that was left in the bags were bits o’ honey and other weird treats. After that no one ever wanted to come to my birthday parties and I ended up one of the biggest outcasts of the school, famous only for that terrible party.

Once elementary school had passed and people were talking to me again, I decided to build up the courage to finally get him back. I was going to wait till dark one day when he was walking home from baseball practice and jump out at him from around a corner, making him scream like a little girl in front of his crush, Isabella. It was perfect, it would humiliate him and Isabella would be sure to tell all the girls at school. It would have been amazing. Key word would, if he hadn’t beaten me to it. I was walking home from my friend’s house one evening and he tackled me from a tree, screaming “BOO!” and dressed as a vampire. I was so scared I peed my pants a little bit and then had to give him all the money in my coin purse so he wouldn’t tell anyone. Well being the great older brother he is, he didn’t tell anyone, he told everyone! I walked into school the next day and whenever someone would see me in the hallways they would offer me a diaper. It was mortifying!

That was the breaking point; I couldn’t take anymore of his tormenting me. I ran home, straight into the arms of my dad and tattled. I didn’t care about being called a snitch, a rat, a tattler; I just wanted to be left alone. Well it worked, after that day my dad and my brother had a little talking to and he didn’t bother me again. Granted, he never talked to me again, but anything was better than what he had put me through!

That’s why today is a momentous day, not only is he leaving the house but today will mark the first time we will have ever talked in four years. I just hope I can pretend to miss him convincingly…