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Memories This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Far too often I hear of families where the siblings do not seem to get along. I find this sad because as I was growing up I could not spend enough time with my brother who is five years older. He had a way of making even the worst deeds, such as doing the dishes or mopping the floor, seem like fun. I give him credit for being patient with me. I would always want to play anything he did. Small cars were his favorite toys, yet I was always allowed to play with certain cars. The only major disadvantage of being five years apart was the fact that he was noticeably smarter than I when it came to game playing. I quickly began to hate Monopoly. He would have a higher stack of $100 bills than the bank did! Though it was not legal, I did win once and am sure he will never forget it. I ended up with most of the money in the end. But I was still discouraged until I realized there was a way to get even. I went into the other room and found his toy pistol, my dad's briefcase and a handkerchief. I re-entered the room as a masked robber. The game was over with all the money in my possession!

Living on the third floor of an apartment, we had the advantage of being able to see the late night (9:00 was late back then) neighborhood baseball games in the laundromat parking lot diagonally across the street. Our toy box was right in front of the window, giving us a nice seat to view the game. He would be the commentator for the game and then "turn the mike" over to me for my predictions on the winning team. I could never stop laughing. The idea of me being a baseball expert was absurd, considering I knew little about the sport.

I have many memories of the mischieve and fun things we did and will never forget them. It is unfortunate that we do not see much of each other any more. He is finishing up college and I am about to begin. We have become like ships passing in the night; the main way of keeping in touch is a note left in each other's bedrooms every once in a while. I find it comforting though, knowing that if I need him, he will be here in a heartbeat. I could not ask for a better big brother. I can only hope I was as good a little sister to him as he was a big brother to me. c


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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