Wednesday
"Eric! Hurry up!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't rush me."
"Mom said you have to do this."
"I know. And I'm going to. But I'm in high school, and I'm not going to be rushed by some snotty third grader."
"Betcha you liked it as much as I did when you were little!"
"I like riding my bike, just not with little kids"
"It's too bad I'm not the older brother. I wouldn't be this slow."
"It's too bad I'm not the younger brother. I wouldn't be this annoying."
"Yeah you would...it's the little brothers job."
"Gee. Then you must be up for a raise."
"Funny. I guess we could pretend I'm the older brother."
"Why would we do that?"
"So I could show you how incredibly slow you are."
"Frankly, I don't really care. Mom said I had to go riding with you, and I am. I'm not arguing over speeds."
"Well, just hurry up."
"I'm COMING"
Brian began calculating on his fingers.
"If you're not sure, there are five of them," Eric snapped
"If I were the older brother, I'd be 12...and you'd be six."
"How did you get that?"
"My way."
"Ah. So it's probably wrong"
"We, at least I figured it out today! Are you ready YET?"
"Okay, I'm ready."
"Finally! I still say if I were twelve and you were six this would be going faster and better."
"And if up were down, you'd be smart."
"So funny. Are you coming?" Brian tore off down the pavement, with Eric rapidly catching up.
"I can still ride faster than you can, little boy."
"Not if you were six...you wouldn't be able to keep up!"
"You're really obsessing over this."
"Well, it'd be cool...didn't you ever want to be the little brother?"
"Oh, sure. You get treated so much better than I do."
"But you can do all sorts of stuff I can't. Like ride your bike alone."
"Yeah, but you can do more than I could at your age."
"I didn't even get a bike until I was 9."
"Uphill both ways in the snow, huh? Anyhow, you're thirteen now...and middle school has got to be better then elementary."
"You wouldn't even understand. You have so much more freedom than I did, and...what? I mean, yeah, I guess, it's better than elementary school."
"Well, maybe we could convince mom to let you be the little brother for a while...if you really want too..."
"What? How would that work?"
Well, We could trade. I could do your chores, and mom could let me do what you do, and you could do my stuff..."
"Give me a break. There's no way I'd trade."
"Besides, you're not mature enough to do most of my things."
"Sure I am...you're not that much older then me. Besides, I thought you said I had it easier?"
"But I'm still older than you. That's why my chores are my chores and yours are yours. You have it easier than I *did*. Besides, I'm not worried about doing your little chores, I'm saying you couldn't do mine."
"I betcha I could."
"Of course you think you could. That's why you're immature."
"Besides, if I couldn't it isn't like you'd be in trouble."
"Yeah I would. It's my responsibility."
"Not if we traded."
"Mom would never agree."
"Bet she would. You're only a year older then me, after all."
"Fine. You ask her, and if she's okay with it, then I'm happy to stick you with my chores. Only I'm more...I mean...my stuff might be harder then you think. I used to do it, remember?"
"Not all of it."
"Most of it."
"I mean, you're having a hard time keep up with me as it is."
"I'm probably just in a lower gear."
"Sure...is Mrs. Alberston still teaching second grade?
"No. It's Mrs. Mahoney now."
"Good...they finally forced that which to retire...lucky you."
"Mrs. Mahoney is pretty cool."
"That's good, I guess. I think she was teaching first grade when I was there."
Distracted by the conversation, Eric missed a branch on the ground, tipping his bike over. "Oww!"
Brian broke abrubtly and ran over to his younger brother. "You OK?"
Though tears, Eric exclaimed, "My knee!"
Trying to calm him down, Brian hugged him. "Shhhh...it'll be OK."
"It hurts!"
"I think I have a band-aid here somewhere. Here we go." Brian placed a Sesame Street band-aid over Eric's knee. "You gonna be okay?"
"It's a little better."
"Think you can get home?"
"Uh-huh"
"C'mon...maybe we should put your training wheels back on"
"I don't need train'n wheels!"
"Whatever you say. C'mon!"
"'kay" Eric cautiously got on his bike again.
"You'll be fine."
"Yeah! I'm a big boy, I can ride a bike!"
"Yep...all of six years old!"
"6 and a quarter!"
"Oh, right. Let's go!"
"Yeah!"
They rode back home without incident, put away their bikes, and went inside.
"Mom? Eric hurt his knee!"
"I only cried a little."
"See! I put the Band-Aid on."
As their mother came downstais, Brian whispered to Eric, "You pretended really well."
"I'm a good pretenderer!" He coughed, and looked around in confusion. "I mean, yeah, I can do it when I want to."
"By the way, nice band-aid."