All in the Family

My little brother is in town and staying with me for the first time in many years. And although we see each other every year when I go back to NZ, somehow it's different when he's over here.

Of course there are the inevitable memories and sharing of, often unsavoury stories..... Camping in the rain, grotty flats we have lived in, exes, aging relatives etc.  And despite our mature years, we still laugh at poo jokes.

He seems to have forgiven me for feeding him worms (not long after this photo was taken - him in Grandmas arms, me looking winsomely at the camera and wondering why he is getting all the attention). And for persuading him that his glass of milk would taste so much better with a liberal dosing of salt. And using him as the whipping boy everytime I was out of sorts (Dad tells me off, I pass it on. Grants only recourse was to kick the cat, and he was too much of a softie for that.)

Of course things got better as we got older.  I think I spoiled him rotten later on, although our memories seem to diverge here. Never mind. Little brothers, like herpes, are for life...