It’s official. I’m old.
Okay, I know that 22 is hardly the time to start hitting the comfy armchairs for mid-conversation naps and an over acceptable interest in birds but something has happened of late that has made me feel old.
My little brother is heading to secondary school. A twelve and fifteen year age gap was always going to feel slightly odd when it comes to big life changes, but it seems like no time at all since my little brother Matthew was a teeny weeny tot obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine.
Fast forward nearly eleven years (he’s the youngest in his year), and the once little love is now almost as tall as me and my mum, and getting ready for his first year at secondary school. I do feel incredibly lucky to have a big age gap between us – I’m in that special, rare position of authority where I’m not-quite ‘old’ but old enough to be seen as a role model and an ‘adult’.
Matthew is such a character. He’s fiery, and feisty, but at the same time caring and warm. He’s got a great aptitude for being passionate, and most of all he is wonderfully bright. He’s everything you’d want in a brother (little or no).
So yes, a few months from secondary and still, very much, a little dot in my eyes!
“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairly tales again.” – C.S.Lewis.