My house is chaos, it always has been. From the yelling and flexing of muscles to the climbing gear strewn across the stairs, there was never a calm moment. I grew up with three older brothers. There was never any left overs or food in the house, it was like growing up with grizzly bears. They were always there to torment me and tell me I couldn’t have a boyfriend till I turned thirty. I got hung over banisters and tattled on every day. I was a crazy kid. For starters, I knocked my brother’s best friend out when I was five with the end of a metal broom to the head because he was “being annoying.” One thing I know for sure, I wasn’t a shy kid. I would follow my brothers to their soccer games and be the first one to run after the ball when it went out of bounds. I wanted to be just like them. When I was old enough I joined a soccer team. Anytime any of them came to my games I felt so proud, like I was the luckiest kid just to have them there. I would always sneak down in the basement at night in hopes that they would let me hang out with them. To no avail I was carried up stares five minutes later kicking and screaming, they would tell me when I was older I would be allowed down.
Looking back now I guess I was pretty annoying. I always got my way and tattled on them every chance I could get. But growing up with my brothers made me who I am today. I know all of the UFC fighting techniques and breaking a nail doesn’t worry me. Weather I like to admit it or not my brothers have always been there for me. They are the constant while everything else changes. I can always count on there not being any food in the house and smelly socks everywhere, but that’s just our house and I love it.
