Of course, as brothers, they (especially the older one) felt it was their right to beat up on each other (and to the distraction of their wives, still do), though the older one usually got the best of the younger. That was not necessarily because the older one was any stronger (he would tell you he is), but because in his youth he was very stubborn, and to me he always seemed to have an attitude of, you may beat me up, but I’ll never give up; that look in the eye can be very disconcerting.
When he and his brother would go at it, the younger was always ready to stop before the older.
My younger son in his earlier years was always very trusting and naive, and always saw and assumed the best in people. One day at the dinner table he mentioned that an older kid was picking on him, and he couldn’t figure out why, as he was always nice to this fellow.
The older brother casually asked the other kid’s name. About a week later, the younger son came home all excited – the bully had stopped picking on him, and they were now really good friends! I looked at the older one and he looked back and gave me a small smile. Enough said – I got the message loud and clear.
That’s what brothers are for!
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