All summer long, he's been dropping hints and, all summer long, I've been trying to avoid it. Today, I finally accepted the fact that my little brother is no longer little.
He has gone from a little kid who carried around a security blanket until it was a knot of string to a pre-teen who wouldn't be caught dead admitting that he has a gang of stuffed animals that live on his top bunk. He's gone from a little kid who used to say comp-oo-ter instead of computer to someone who made straight A's all year at a gifted middle school. He's the kid who I used to carry around on my hip or on my shoulders before he could even walk to the almost teenager who's almost as tall as me. He's the kid who used to look up to me adoringly with his huge brown eyes to the kid who, today, gave me the iamoldenoughtostayhomealonealldayanddon'tneedyouhere look.
He's also the kid who used to knock over the t-ball stand to one of the few people who knows more about the Red Sox than me. He's also the kid who used to tell knock knock jokes from the Popsicle sticks to has developed a sense of humor that can make me chuckle. He's the kid who used to watch Spongebob every Saturday morning to the member of our family who uses up the most space on our DVR recording NCIS.
He's gone from my little baby brother who I loved for his innocence and childish charm to the pre-teen who wishes he was a teenager who has grown into someone I actually love hanging out with. And he's also the person who, in eight weeks, is, ironically, going to have grow up as he enters a children's hospital where he'll have major open heart surgery.
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