I think I am as much a helicopter sister as I am a helicopter mom. My 30-year-old baby brother is here to visit, and I've had to remind myself more than once that I am no longer his babysitting big sister, and that I should treat him like the grown man that he is (and a military non-commissioned officer, at that).
But I can't help it. He's still 8 years old to me.
Here are some things I've had to ALLOW for him to do on his own (and completely go against my natural instincts).
1. Cross the street without grabbing for his hand. Admittedly, I reached for it, but he was already across the HELLA BUSY parking lot. My heart dropped for a split-second, like I'd lost him or something.
2. Order at the local Korean dive. I did, however, try to steer him to order certain items. To make sure he had a well-rounded lunch, you know?
3. Drive the shopping cart at the crazy-crowded Asian market. I had to trust, people. I even let him go down a few rows so we could attack the grocery list together. I found him every time, of course. (whew)
4. Pay for his own check. Although, we did have a little verbal scuffle in front of the cashier. I didn't believe that being in the Air Force for 13 years earned him enough money to buy. C'mon, he's only 8! I mean...
5. Work my stove and take over my kitchen. He even sharpened one of my knives. I had to look away; I imagined myself summoning all of my RN skills to stitch him up with my sewing needle and Guterman thread.
(He made a kick-butt Filipino dish)
6. Teach me how to cook the aformentioned kick-butt Filipino dish. I can't tell you how that totally blew my mind. Like, my little brother knows more than me? How is that even possible? Is that even allowed?
I can't even talk about it.
7. Make me a drink. An alcoholic one. I mean, I knew he was a part-time bartender at one point, but in my mind he was playing with kool-aid and plastic cups. Because there is NO WAY he drinks. He's way too young.
8. Teach me how to make the aforementioned alcoholic drink. I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THIS.
Tomorrow, I will wake up, and my baby brother will be 8 years old again. That, or I will finally have to face that he has grown up to be such a sensitive, considerate, and good man.
NoNoNoNoNo...he's eight eight eight.