In the beginning almost all my memories have Tyler in them, I don't remember a time when Tyler wasn't there. We were always super close! I was the loud child, and he was the shy child. Tyler had an accent from being around our grandfather from Holland and no one could understand him when he spoke besides me. Also no one really heard him talk other than me, till he was about 6 or 7 I was Ty's "translator".
When our mom would get mad at me for calling her names or something and lock me in my room, Tyler would always come and get me out. My mother put these little things on the top of our doors so that if she put one piece over into the whole we couldn't open our doors. Whenever she did that instead of calling for her to let me out I would call Tyler. My baby brother. He would grab the broom, unflick the metal hook from the hole and come into play with me so I wasn't alone. And I always did the same for him.
That was when I had gotten my own room.
Tyler and I shared a room till we were about....7, and 5. Now this is one of the parts that shows how much I didn't like my brother. We had a bunk bed. I got the top, he got the bottom. Every night Ty would climb up to my bed and start talking to me when I was trying to sleep.
One night that I remember he climbed up onto my bunk, so at the top of the ladder and started talking non stop like always. But my dad had just gotten mad at me for something and I was really pissed off.
Now when I was a kid I LOVED Disney movies, especially The Lion King so finally I got fed up, went to the end of my bed where Tyler was standing on the ladder, grabbed his hands and threw them backwards making him fall backwards to the floor. Immediately after I felt bad, cause when he hit the floor he let out a loud cry of pain. And in a few minutes my mom and dad were in my room screaming at me for pushing him off.
Turns out I had broken his wrist. .....Opps sorry Bro!!