My Brother and I

Now, when an only child pictures a brother and sister, they probably tend to picture them being best friends, always getting along. They probably think it'd be nice to always have another kid in the house. Well, they were very wrong.



Also, when siblings think of only children, they probably think THAT would be nice, having a lot of privacy, not always having to argue. They would always get to have dibs on everything, no one to interfere. Now I must that they are very wrong, also.



Of course when you have a sibling, like me, usually you don't get along, depending on the age difference. I have a brother who is two years older than me, and we hardly ever get along. But, when we do, it's actually sort of nice. We do a lot of things together, when we aren't arguing over who gets to sit in front of the car, who gets to watch what on television, and who started what, and who did what. It can be troublesome. Especially when your dad gets involved and grounds you both.



Only children, (for example, my cousin), do tend to get lonely. They can tend to feel all alone, especially if their parents are at work, and they just sit alone at home. But on the bright side they don't have a sibling to always get in fights with. So, really, neither one is better than the other.



My brother and I used to be really tight. We were actually, (dare I say it), friends. We have had a lot of good times. He taught me a lot, even though a lot of it was false, (most on accident). I even remember when I was about five and he was probably seven, we were climbing a pretty big sand pile in Nana's backyard. I was a rowdy little girl back then, and my brother...not so much. I ran up ahead of him and got a head start climbing the sand pile. Little did I know that my brother was right below me. So I stepped right onto his shoulder and...then he started crying. He was in pain?



Nana freaked out and called an ambulance. Me? I was just confused. I didn't know what had been going on.



Then an ambulance arrived and people ran out of it. They had to cut the sleeve of of my brother's shirt because his arm was in too much pain to move it. I really wasn't that large. I was a small little thing! As it turns out, I had accidentally dislocated his shoulder. How? I still have no clue.



So, in the ambulance we go. My brother still crying. The ambulance was kind of cramped, but also exciting. I had never been in one before. Nana was on her cell phone, probably call my mom and dad.

        When we arrived at the hospital, my brother's shoulder had gone back into place, and all was good again. My mom arrived and brought my brother and I back home. He wasn't even mad at me or anything.



I'm not quite sure what kind of lesson I was trying to imply in that short story, but I know something I had learned from that experience: Ambulances are pretty awesome!