The first to get a double bed, watch M rated movies and go to the shopping centre on my own, he often cried ‘unfair’ on a number of independent milestones I got to first.
But nothing got under his skin like the size of my bedroom in comparison to his.
Bigger and better in every way, the fact I as the eldest was gifted with this covetable prize annoyed him ’til the day I moved out.
So when, after much deliberation, my Dad finally gave the go ahead for him to make the room his own, Nathan was in within 24 hours, leaving a path of dismantled bed slats and Zac Efron posters in his wake.
You can imagine my reaction upon hearing the news.
Fast forward 10 years and the tables have turned. Because now my brother is occupying my childhood bedroom, I kind of want it back.
Not because I want to move back home, but if I ever had to, the option to return to my former life like nothing ever happened is gone.
Even though I really being independent and
all most of what comes with it, I'd be lying if I said I never had days where the thought of coming home to dinner on the table and free unlimited high speed internet didn't cross my mind.
And in times when I wanted (and still want) to run back with my tail between my legs, it was comforting to know there was a familiar place for me.