Big Little BrotherI have a brother. He's nearly four years younger than me but he's a lot bigger. A big softy ... 6'3" of mush and lovely man.
He's a real sweetheart and is always there for me and naturally, I love him to bits.
I always tease him about the little things I remember about him from when we were kids. I remember the first pair of grown up shoes he ever bought. He fell in love with the shoes but the store didn't have his size so he ended up buying a pair which were about four sizes too big. They were like boats on him and I have never let him forget.
Or the time he went fishing with Dad and cried bitterly about having to take the hook out of the fish because it was hurting and he didn't like being cruel to the fish.
How he knew all the Noddy and BigEars stories off by heart when he was little because Grandad used to read them to him so often he'd memorised them all, even though he couldn't yet read.
My favourite story though is the one about my mum confessing to me that she had kissed his willie when he was a tiny baby ... I told him that story after mother had passed away and he was about 45 years old ... the look on his face was priceless ... absolutely priceless.