To put it mildly, my kids don’t get along. I have a daughter, who is about to turn 13 and a son who is 9 (and a half).
As if being, nearly, a teen isn’t hard enough, my daughter has to deal with a little brother who isn’t a typical little brother. Literally. His special needs make him all the more irritating to her. You would think she would appreciate that he can’t hear well, because it’s like a free ticket to yell.
It doesn’t help that my son is as ornery as the day is long. He will drive my poor daughter to the brink and when I get involved he will say, “I was just doing it to get her in trouble!” Push buttons much? He’s just like his father.
Last night at dinner, we were clearly heading toward a sibling blow-up because every time my daughter spoke, my son had something to add; stuff like, “Oh, please! You are such a teen!”
As her expression grew angry after his incessant comments, he knew he had to back-pedal…or so I thought. I saw him lean toward her and put his hand on her shoulder. I thought, for a second, that he was going to apologize.
Instead, he brushed her hair off of her face and said, “Ali, do you know you love me?”