One thing led to another and I ended up putting one of my sundresses on little kid today as I was folding laundry. (He asked me to, although he denies this now.)
We both giggled as we snuck into the room Big Kid was in and little kid tapped him on the shoulder, cracking up over wearing jeans, a Jimi Hendrix shirt and a sundress. Big Kid looked up and laughed.
"Let me go get my camera," I said.
Big Kid's smile instantly stopped. "Don't you do it! Don't you dare take a picture of him like that."
"Oh whatever, it's all in good fun," I said, reaching for the camera.
"DON'T DO IT! NO PICTURE! I won't let you do it, mom. I'm not havin' you take a picture of my bubby in a dress."
"What is your problem? He's fine with it. Who cares?"
"I care! He might care when he's more growed up. If you do it, I'll be all tweaked out."
"Tweaked out?!? Did you really just say that? Are you for real?" I could tell he was for real, just by looking at him. His face was turning red.
"I will not let you, mom. If you do it, I will delete it or break your camera or do whatever I think is best. I'll take little kid and we'll run away!!"
Honestly, I've never seen him so mad at me. There was only one other time that was comparable, the one time I swiped a soapy finger in little kid's mouth for out-of-control sassing. Big Kid threatened to call Poison Control on me that day.
At this point, little kid was running around the kitchen island screaming and trying to tear the dress off. I decided to give up on the photo; I can't have them running away right before we leave on vacation.
We should all be so lucky to have a brother like Big Kid, though.
Despite Big Kid's noble effort to save little kid from embarrassment, little kid keeps asking me to put the dress on Big Kid. When I told him that Big Kid would never go for that, he suggested that I just hold him down and force the dress over his head.
I think he's your more typical type of brother.