My little brother was born when I was 20 months old and I never again had a room alone to sleep in. I guess that was the beginning of one of life’s greatest lessons, sharing. To give up one’s privacy at such an early age had it’s benefits. As we got older Mom would always ask us things like , “who broke the lamp or who left the butter out?”. Looking back on those days growing up, I remember how convenient it was to have someone to blame things on. This was especially handy when my little brother was just beginning to walk but not yet in full command of the English language. It also helped that he was born with this eternally perplexed look on his face. It was hard to tell if his features belied a look of guilt, or amazement that I had just let him take the fall for the broken lamp. Nonetheless, he was handy to have around on occasion.
With the addition of another brother, 5 years later, it became readily apparent that we were going to be stuck with each other for the duration, so we kind of accepted our fate. Besides, he never did have a choice, he was stuck in the middle forever. His privacy was forfeited at birth as admission into the family. He became my scapegoat, and I became his protector. Bicycles were our portal to the adventures of the day and for many years to come.
