Cabbagehead


Long ago (well not terribly long ago) my parents lived a charmed life. They had each other and me, their perfect, beautiful, kind daughter.

Five and a half wonderful years later everything changed. Cabbagehead was born.

Before he was born, adults thought it was amusing to ask me what I would do if the baby inside my mama's belly was male.

I told them that I would put him on a leash and attach it to a post just outside my bedroom. I also added that I would only speak to him once a day.

My opinion changed when I saw him through the newborn nursery window. Well, I think I was looking at the right baby. They all looked the same to me.

He was so cute and so sweet. He was MY baby brother and I loved him.

Being so much older afforded me the "opportunity" to help with Cabbagehead's care.

I fed him. Once I tried to sneak a piece of tomato into his scrambled eggs. He screamed when I gave him a bite. I thought he was just being picky about the tomato. I didn't hear Mom tell me to let the eggs cool first.

I changed his diapers, wet and otherwise. I couldn't lift him up to slide the diaper under, so Mom taught him to lift his bottom at the appropriate time.

I babysat him. "Your sister is in charge. You have to do what she says." Insert evil laugh here.

Being so much older afforded me other "opportunities" as well.

I tricked Cabbagehead into letting me put makeup on him. I told him that he would look like a tiger or a lion when I finished. He was a little disappointed by the pink lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Our grandmother was even more disenchanted with the results. Apparently it was a little difficult to remove.

I dressed him up as a "wrestler" once and our mom took pictures. A few years ago Cabbagehead saw the photos and realized that the "wrestling" outfit was really my pink swimsuit.

I had an idea of how to pass the time on a long, boring car ride. I asked him to lay his head in my lap. I then tried to see how long I could let a string of spit drop before having to suck it back up. It was hilarious until I didn't suck the saliva up soon enough. It landed right in his eye! Insert more evil laughter.

There were times when Cabbagehead irritated the crap out of me and he doesn't remember my teenage years with fondness. In spite of our tough times, we get along well now and actually enjoy spending time together (at least I do).

We both really love good food and try to cook together as much as our schedules permit. We nearly ruined the Thanksgiving turkey two years ago, but we had fun doing it. Last fall we even made cheese. Yes, we made cheese! We used cow's milk, but we joked about making human milk cheese. We figured it would be too expensive to make and nobody would buy it, not to mention the FDA regulations.

I could go on writing all night. After all, I do have 25 years worth of dirt on him.

I'll end with this: I love my little brother, even if his head isn't so little.

Comments

Cheri said…
Cute post! I have a little brother too. I am 11 years his senior and I think he is about the most wonderful guy in the world. But I have had a lot of fun at his expense through the years.

Off topic -
Would you mind if I put a link to your blog on mine?
Curly said…
Did you ever spit in his eye? Did he ever slam your head in the car door?

I would be honored to have a link on your blog!
Anonymous said…
I loved this post!!! I cracked up several times - I think big sisters have a lot in common!

My little bro is 2 years younger and my sis 5 years younger so she was the brunt of my Big Sis ways.
Cheri said…
Well, no, but swansmith and our other sister and I have dressed him up as a girl.

He was very cute!
Curly said…
It is such fun to be the oldest!

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