The family baby

My baby brother was 2 yesterday. How wrong is that? At 25 years old I have a baby brother. Not weird at all my family. Nooo.
When he was born, my Grandma complained. It’s all very well being  Grandma again, she said, but actually she would rather someone made her a great grandma before she dies.

We can’t always get what we want though, can we. And at least she got a grandson out of it. Anyone else would be pleased to be a Grandma again.

It’s so odd having a baby brother on my age. Whenever I’m seen with him people assume he’s mine. And he’s going to grow up in a totally different genaration, a world full of eleoctronic gadgets and the internet (when I was little we had an Amiga and it was like the coolest computer ever. We didn’t get internet til I was 15 and even then I was only allowed on it once in a blue moon cos it cost so much). It’s been bad enough finding stuff to talk to my other brother about over the years, although things are improving now he’s almost 18, but what am I ever going to have in common with the baby, apart from the fact that we happen to share a father. A father who may just be insane producing babies at his age.
Bizarre I tell you. Very, very bizarre.