For My Brothers

So I had an experience yesterday. Tears and tantrums were running strong, and by lunch time all three of us had had it. At which point Mak was sent to his room for basically sitting on Emmett's head. Mak began the usual five minute time out sitting pushed up against his door bawling. Pretty soon Emmett was banging on the other side of the door and pulling on the handle in an attempt to get Mak out. I was shocked after all Makray had spent the morning picking Emmett to pieces. My best attempts to entertain Emmett and keep him away from Mak's door failed, every time he would head down the hall turn the corner and go straight to Mak's door. He had one thing on his mind and nothing was going to stop him.

Whatever, I figured while they were both otherwise engaged (bawling and banging) I would get some cleaning up done. About a minute and half later I realized the banging had stopped and so had the crying. I headed for Mak's room to see what the lack of commotion was about. This is what I found.

Emmett had reached his fat, little hand under the door, to hold Mak's hand. They sat there long enough for me to grab my camera again, just holding hands. After all the quarrels over peanut-butter sandwiches or the tears over the blue dragon that's missing a wing, these two little brothers still had so much love for each other. Which got me thinking...
Thank you to my brothers for tormenting my boyfriends, calling me names, and pulling my hair. Thank you for teaching me how to throw a ball, gut a fish, and punch like a boy. Thanks for getting me grounded and for taking the blame. Thanks for shooting me with sling shots, marshmallow rifles, potato guns, and air soft pistols. Thanks for carrying me home when I was hurt, slipping me money so I wouldn't lose at monopoly, and cutting me more than my share of the Lawn Mowing money when all I did was sit on the curb and pout. Thanks for going on missions, fulfilling your callings, and being good boys. Love you Ty and P!