My (not so little) brother

Life is funny. I was 16 years old when my brother was born and without even realising at the time, that day changed my life forever. You see, on June 6th 2008 my mother gave birth to a tiny, not so pretty baby that would become my best friend in no time.

I was used to being the youngest at home and suddenly I became the middle child. I lacked the patience for many of his tantrums and soon became the “bad cop” at home, but I was also the one who would sleep with him on my chest for hours when he was in pain.

Being a teenager with a baby at home isn’t easy, but it’s fun. I had to adapt my schedules to him and try to come up with creative ways to entertain him. In fact, without him, I would not have endured the biggest challenge of my life — the Ketchup Challenge nor would I have watched all Phineas & Ferb episodes.

Having a big sister already, I knew I was covered when it came to having a best friend for life, but I didn’t imagine how much a younger brother could add to that. Now, the Three Musketeers are complete.

So far, my brother has taught me how to appreciate Chico da Tina’s insightful lyrics, how to speak PT-PT and PT-BR, as well as to understand the difference between a shove-it and a tre-flip (I’m still working on this one to be honest).

Thank you for being the funniest person I know, for being kind to everyone, for giving the best hugs and for remembering to bring me gloves when my hands are cold. Happy birthday, you’re the best! 🎈