Literally

(fictional interpretation of one sibling relationship)

I’m writing this in my journal.  Not the one I decorated at the "Siblings of Kids with Aspergers Bookbinding Craft Group" my Mom took me to so I could write stuff like how much I love my brother and understand how hard things are for him sometimes.  That's true.  But so is this. 

Sometimes I hate him.  I hate how my older brother Kevin checks the weather report every morning on the TV, radio, internet and newspaper.  Not because he wants to be prepared for rain by bringing an umbrella, but because he needs to be sure that our all-season tires will be “sufficiently safe” for Mom to get to the clinic where she works so that she can make money to give him allowance every week so he can reach his goal of $170 plus tax for this laser projection keyboard he desperately can barely live without.  My Mom reminds him every morning that he has a list of chores to do every day, but he can earn extra money by sweeping the floor or unloading the dishwasher.  He just stares at her like she's bonkers and she stares at him without reaching for her wallet.  He still makes money from his website that lists battery usage guidelines for hundreds of different cel phones, but it goes into his college fund.

He also cries about stupid stuff, which I think is disturbing.  Like, if we don’t have Hellman’s mayonnaise- NON-LITE, because then he can’t eat his ham sandwich, which is all he ever eats. Obviously only full-fat mayonnaise can coat the bread with enough fat content to prevent dreaded seepage of totally needed ketchup.  I don’t really know the whole list of ham sandwich hazards because I never stay in the kitchen long enough.  Plus I don’t care.  Sometimes it just feels good when I open the fridge and see that we only have a little mayo left in the jar, and I use it.  I do that when I'm really mad at him and the timing is right.   Oh ya, he’ll also eat apples if the peel is off and there are no bruises on it; with a fork so his fingers don’t get sticky!  Who does that?

Yesterday he didn’t answer me when I asked him if he liked my new skirt.  I really want to look good for Friday because I'm going to my friend Jesse’s house and she has a brother who is cuter than cute.  I mean, there's no word for how good looking he is.  He's the same age as Kevin, so I thought maybe Kevin would be a good test for how 14-year-old boys think and if they like brown skirts with pink lace along the bottom, but not too much because that would be babyish.  Kevin didn’t even look at my skirt; he told me that some boring computer thing called Lion OSX has a new version coming out July 20th. 

My brother is the definition of Ass-Burger.  I told him that once when he got totally upset when I accidentally stepped on his Nintendo 3DS charger.  I got into a lot of trouble for saying that, but it was worth it.  He never shuts up about video games!  Minecraft this.... Mario Galaxy that....  Lego Star Wars blah blah.  And he only wears practically the same clothes every day because they are the only ones that don’t scratch his skin.  He won’t let my Mom or Dad touch him lightly, like pat his back, but he's always asking us to squeeze him as hard as we can.  How does that make sense?

I guess he’s not so bad.  We have a secret system at school.  I slip him a fortune cookie at recess from my friend Amber (she's Chinese and doesn't like the fortune cookies her Grandma puts in her lunch everyday) because he collects the ones that tell him he's lucky today.  Odd for someone who tells me my horoscope isn't scientifically relevant.  He heard on the show 'Age of Persuasion' on CBC radio that people have a neurological dopamine response to the word "lucky" so he's saving them up to give to Dad for Father's Day even though Kevin is sure that luck is a  false construct based on a lack of logical reasoning.  You can see why he’s confusing.  I have to ignore him at school because he doesn’t have any friends.

I'm also doing really well in English.  I love to write and I have a flare for the dramatic my teacher says.  My brother has the imagination of a knat.  If I hadn’t helped him write his poetry for English he would have failed his assignment for sure.

Bill Gates                                                                                                                                                 
With Windows 8

Picked the dates

It’s going to be late

I can’t wait to get Windows 8

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       
He was going to hand that in! Mom said it was a good rhyme, and informative poetry is refreshing.  I know he's way smarter than that because he is on the gifted list at school.  He uses such big words, but he freezes if he has to write a story or poem,   I think I get good grades in English because I hear him talk.   He didn't say thanks, but he cleaned my computer screen after we'd finished with his homework.  He told me that the number of oily fingerprints on my screen was consistent with a statistically relevant portion of the population who are unaware that they touch their computers as much as they actually do.  He has a special cloth for that, so he rushed to his room to get it.  Dad says that's Kevin's way of saying he cares about me. 

I’m in my room right now because Mom told me I need a break for a while, which is fine because I’d rather be in here than stay in the kitchen with him.  He told me my hair looks messy, like I just woke up.  I did it special today!  I told him to take a hike, keep your shirt on, and make hay while the sun shines.  It was all I could think of.   Kevin started up about how he can’t go for a hike because we don’t live near a mountain and he can’t get to one because he doesn't have a drivers license.  He asked me why he would take his shirt off, the temperature is a bit low in the house, and he started to stutter about the hay thing.   This is an awesome way to confuse my brother and stay out of serious trouble myself by pretending to forget he takes everything literally.  I left before I could hear the same lecture about how Kevin says stuff he thinks is true and he's still learning that some things hurt people’s feelings.  He told a girl in my class that she should go to Weight Watchers and cut down on junk food, and she's my friend!  Ya, she’s fat but anybody knows that’s rude to say right to her face.  I do think it’s funny when he tells the Principal that she has bad breath.  No matter how many times my parents tell him that it’s not polite to say, he still does it.  He says it’s the truth and that he's being helpful, plus she could get some mint gum from the vending machine, but if she forgets or can’t afford it he could get some for her as a present.  He’s so embarrassing.

My parents are always telling me to watch out for Kevin.  He's older than me, he's a boy, and barely notices me.  They don't get it. They take me to a friend’s house but then say I'm lucky because I make friends so easily.  Why do I have to feel lucky because Kevin can’t do something and I can?  And by the way, the word lucky doesn't cause a spike in my brain happy chemicals.  It's not like he even wants to hang out with me.  And we don’t do much as a family, like we can’t all go to the beach because Kevin will freak out that the water is sticky and the sand feels like glass on his bare feet, but he also won’t wear shoes because the sand gets in his shoes and that's just as bad.  And I don’t think the ocean stinks, it smells great.  It’s so relaxing.

Mom says it’s okay for me to feel mad at Kevin.  She listens to what I say, most of the time.  But… she doesn’t see that he's so selfish.  I guess I’m mad too because Kevin makes her so happy.  She smiled for days when he learned to ride his bike, when he was 9!  I learned when I was 4.   I’ve never seen her try so hard to hold back tears as when Kevin stood up and sang a bit of a song for music appreciation day in front of the whole school. When I do something good, she just smiles and hugs me and puts her hands on my cheeks and stares into my eyes.  I don't see any tears. My brother doesn't notice when people are happy or sad, won't let anyone hug him and no one could ever touch his face or look into his eyes without him having a major meltdown, or he would just walk away.  And not see that I smile too.