You as a big brother.
Explaining to you that my growing belly means you’ll have a little brother or sister someday soon. That ease, the assumption that our future is certain. “There’s a baby in there,” we’d say, patting the taut skin. You, believing the impossibility of this miracle, putting your tiny palm flat until the baby kicks and you giggle, or yelp in surprise, or kiss my skin and the baby underneath.
Peering into my belly button as my belly swells to check on the new baby. “No, it’s ready yet,” you might announce, like your cousin S did, as if checking on a cake in the oven.
Your mother bringing you to the hospital to meet your baby brother or sister. Wild-eyed, excited, disoriented, a little scared. Not knowing how much your life is about to change.
© Burning Eye