Sibling Love

The sun radiated through my small window as I opened my eyes. The light reflected off my mirrors and off of my shiny porcelain vintage tea set. I awoke with a feeling to go on an adventure. I hadn’t in a while.

“Nadia!” I cried out, getting my little brother’s attention. He came into my room and I informed him of my idea of going on a “sissy date” as he calls them. Promptly, he nodded his head with excitement; his brown curls bobbing up and down with him. He ran out of my room to his own and put on clean shorts and a t-shirt. I got up and did the same. I also wrote a brief note to my sleeping mother, informing her we would be back before dark.

When we were outside, putting on our shoes, Nadia asked if we could do what we did last year. I nodded as I recalled the last time we went. We took another route into Corvallis because the one by the bridge leading there was closed. We went to the New Morning Bakery and each got a piece of lasagna and walked down to the Book Bin where I bought him the series called “The Magical Misfits” by Neil Patrick Harris. The smell of the hot pavement came back to me as I opened the shed with the designated key — a small gold one with a piece of blue painter’s tape separating it from the house key. We got our bikes and walked out of the driveway, anxious to get the adventure going.

The sun shone bright and hot but the air was cool. It felt refreshing to be outside. Nadia sped ahead of me, his road bike shining in the sunlight as his long legs churned. My own road bike still felt a bit too tall for me but was a cool deep green. We sped down the hill and out of the mobile home park in a flurry of excitement.

We crossed the bridge into Corvallis and raced each other down the little hill into the riverfront park and turned towards the New Morning Bakery, where we got some “zweites Frühstück” as my grandma called it.

After breakfast we walked with our bikes in tow, trying not to hit our ankles on the pedals. A couple stopped us on the way to the bookstore. They had matching shirts on and looked nice enough.

“You and your son are very polite! Have a good day!”

Nadia laughed when the couple left. “They think you’re my mom!”

The whole rest of the day he teased about it, laughing about how they thought I looked old enough to be an 11-year-old’s mom. Almost 12, he sneered. It’s funny now, but back then it was irritating.