Brothers! Can't live with them...

I did not have an older brother growing up. I was the oldest child in the family and my only brother was eight years younger than me. More of an annoyance, really, than anything else. My twins do have an older brother, and I have come to the conclusion this week that big brothers exist for the sole purpose of torture. Their only goal—their only ambition—is to make the lives of their younger siblings hellish.

On occasion, my children will play together well. On occasion, there will be sibling harmony in my household. Those occasions, however, are few and far between. For the most part, Lucas will take advantage of any and all opportunities to assert his dominance over his younger siblings. He is well-aware that they (naively) worship the ground he walks on. He is well aware that they (gullibly) hang on his every word and (guilelessly) seek out his approval on all matters, big and small. And he, in typical big brother fashion, uses this knowledge to his advantage.

Just the other day, Sophie got a new two-piece bathing suit for this summer. Normally, she wears either a one-piece bathing suit or a bottom with one of those full rash guard tops for swimming. This is the first time she has ever had a real two-piece bathing suit. A suit that actually revealed her skinny little belly. She loved it. As a matter of fact, Wednesday afternoon, she tried it on and proceeded to wear it the entire day. Never mind that it was forty-five degrees outside. Despite my efforts to cover her up—despite following her around with a Snuggie trying to wrap her up—she was content to wear her bathing suit and nothing else. She pranced around in her two-piece bathing suit and her Crocs all afternoon. She certainly thought she was hot stuff.

At one point, she walked into her older brother's room to show him her new suit. I am sure she expected him to tell her that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his eight years on this Earth. He was sitting on his bedroom floor playing Bionicles with his cousin, who is also eight years old. I happened to be walking by their bedroom at the time and heard Lucas exclaim, “Oooh. Gross! I can see your belly button!” I caught a glimpse of him smiling at his cousin, as if to say, Watch me destroy my sister. Sophie then ran out of the room, visibly upset. I was livid. I shouldn't get involved in the kids' petty arguments, but I couldn't stand by and let him hurt his sister's feelings for the sole purpose of hurting her feelings. I berated him loudly. I yelled, “Every single time we go swimming, I see your belly button, Lucas! And if there is anyone around here with a gross belly button, it is not your sister!” He immediately wiped the smile off his face and apologized to his sister. Though I suspect the apology was just for show and was not at all heartfelt.

Brothers! Can't live with them, can't beat them into an unconscious pulp! (That would be wrong, right?)