This is gonna be a tirade, um, informational article on how to deal with little brothers. Thank goodness I only have one, but cripes what a pain he is!
My name is Shanni and I’m three, the little brother, his name is Connor. Mom calls him Devil a lot and that makes me giggle. She has him pegged. He invaded my life last year. I didn’t ask for him, heck I didn’t even hint that I wanted him! My first brother went away to the Rainbow Bridge a long time ago. I was doin’ just fine all on my own.
Mom kept saying somethin’ about how I needed a little brother so I could have somebody to play with. I tried to tell her, very loudly, I was fine, not lonely and I don’t need no stinkin’ little furball messin’ up my life. I guess she didn’t understand though cause she went and got him anyway.
So, how to deal with a little brother, and get mom’s sympathy, is easy. When he jumps on you, make lots of hissin’ and spittin’ noise. Try to get in a few paw whacks to the head when he’s tryin’ to pin you on the floor. A great way to get little brother yelled at is to growl real loud and mean while makin’ all the other noise too. Mom yells at him every time.
When the little brother dares jump on the table to get you, stand up on your back legs and use his head like a paw punching bag. Rapidly paw smack him until he can’t see and then run away really fast before he can recover. Mom and dad are too busy laughing about it so you won’t get in trouble.
Connor loves to eat! Dood, he’s a walking, talking furry garbage disposal. He eyeballs my plate the whole time he’s snarfing his food. To get a little brother to leave your food alone, give him a nasty look, growl a little, look at mom and bat your eyes. Look pitiful and say, “Don’t let me starve, I’m skin an’ bones here!” She’ll shoot him dirty looks and you get to eat in peace.
Sometimes, you gotta take him down a peg or two. Do this by scaring the crap out of him. I promise he won’t be botherin’ you for awhile. Wait till he’s layin’ on the shaggy floor near mom , then come strollin’ outta the kitchen lookin’ all innocent, and yell, “BOO!” He’ll jump 10 feet in the air and every bit of his fur stands straight up the air. It makes me laugh so hard I fall on the floor and roll around. Mom thinks I’m bein’ all cute and want some scritchies.
There are a few good things about havin’ a little brother. Before I tell them I want you to pinkie paw swear you won’t tell I said it. If you tell I’ll deny it then come to your house and do mean things. A good thing about a brother is you got somebody to give your head a bath and clean your ears. My tongue ain’t that long and it feels really good.
It’s good to have a little brother to plot the mom’s downfall, I mean play tricks on her. It’s super duper fun having a brother when mom goes in the room with the flushy thing. Ain’t no way she’s gonna close the door when you both trip her up and get in there before she does.
So, havin’ to deal with a little brother is so bad sometimes I wanna convince my mom to take the little furry jerk to the stabby place and leave him there. Other times, it feels kinda good to have a partner in crime and another furry body to cuddle up to when you go to sleep at night.