Jared...I Mean...You!...

I was going to make a comment to a comment, but that became a bit too confusing - especially when I knew that others would want to comment on that. This is regarding a phenomenon my sisters are all symotaniously going through. I call it "YBFLS" which is a less than pronounceable acronym for "Younger Brother For Life Syndrome". First allow me to post 2 comments from my sisters in a previous blog.

"Oddly, sometimes I sttll think of you as that little boy. I even have dreams where you are that age again."
- LaDawn

"I'm with LaDawn. I still think of you that way alot and lately i've found myself calling Hunter by your name."
- Lacey

Wonder who Hunter is? No, not her husband (that would be creepy). It's her 5 year old son (don't quote me on the age). One wonders, "Is it that her son reminds her of me...or do I remind her of her son?" Either way, the name "Jared" is being perpetuated...just not the way I anticipated.

While home for Christmas, I heard my name a ton. At first it was from my nieces and nephews: "JARED! JARED! JARED! Sit by me! Not don't sit by her, sit by me! Oh, want to know what I can do? Look at this! See that? Shhhhh, don't talk to him! It's my turn!"

Then from my good friends: "Hello? Oh, hey Jared...Back huh? Cool. Well, talk to you later...(click)" (read that like Ben Stein)

Then from my dad: "What? You still live here?"

Then lastly from my sisters: "JARED! Stop that and put that down...oh...er...I mean, Christian!" and "JARED! Uh...Connor, stop hitting!"

Uh, hello? Yeah, I'm about 6' tall now. But if you really want to try to discipline me now, go for it!

Whatever young boy is currently in trouble automatically becomes Jared. It just goes to show you what my sisters remember best about me. (If you want to do your homework, ask my sisters about "Hurricane Peach Days".) To them, I am the younger brother for life. The odd thing about YBFLS is that those who have the ailment are not the ones who suffer from it - the younger brother does. I would like to think that I could milk this for all it is worth. You know, play the younger kid who needs help card.

That, I'm sure, would work in a nice functional family. I don't have one of those. My older brother and I do get along now, but when we were kids, all I can remember is him sifting through his pile of legos for 8 hours a day and hitting me on the back for not turning off my light. Oh, and I remember the time he tapped off half of the room so I couldn't go into it. My sister Ladawn was mostly nice to me...when she recognized me. Wendy had enough going on in her life. She didn't include me in it much, and from what I saw, I didn't want in anyway. Lacey was a text book example of agorophobia (among other things). And with a fun family like we had, the "gore" included our own family. She spent most hours in her room reading "Especially for Youth" pamphlets. I got along best with her, but she was often talking to me for sake of a gospel lecture (not to say that I didn't need it).

Things are different. We all still view Lacey as a bit odd. But hey, she's out of the house, and the state. She is living large in Texas. Wendy is a nice and stable mother living in her nice new house. Ladawn not only recognizes me by face, but now she likes to have me over, and will even ask for me on occasion to come over. Kris has a new version of tape that separates us, the Atlantic Ocean. But now, he invites me over (should I be able to afford it) and will give me things from around the globe instead of hits around the back. I think he still plays with legos.

We all have changed. We all acknowledge that. I don't treat them the same and they don't expect it. So what of me? I don't know what my family truly thought of me as a kid. I don't know what they see now - if it is any different at all. What I do know is the gut reaction I observe when one of their little tikes gets out of hand. I think the instinctive reaction of my sisters speaks volumes for itself.

"Jared...I Mean...You!..."