I am the baby of the family. My sister is 10 years my senior, my brother 8 years my senior.
I am the baby.
By the age six, I had started asking for a baby brother or sister to play with. My little mind did not grasp the concept that it takes time to have a child. Even more time to have a playmate, which by then I’d be seven years its senior.
In my head it was as simple as asking for a gift from Santa. It appeared shortly after having asked for it. Like cookies from the jar, younger siblings had to be stored somewhere. We could just go out and get one.
Luckily, my parents were not the type to give into childish requests, cries nor demands. Despite my promise to help raise it, cross my heart.
Instead, they got me a cat.
Best younger brother I ever had.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
Miss you, Baz.