He pushes her. He screeches when she so much as looks at his newly constructed block tower. He gives her a "haircut" with pliers. He tackles her and sits on her neck. He swings her to the floor by her head. He persuades her out of her crackers every chance he gets.
But... he holds her hand in the car. He tries to put on her shoes. He says, "I love my sister!" without provocation. He brings her her sippy cup. He says, "Carrraaa! You're so silly!" over every little thing she does. He comes into her room while I'm trying to put her down for a nap to holler "Have a good dream!" He fishes the confiscated paper towel roll out of the trash for her because he's "sad when Cara cries." And when he heard her guttoral cries of early infancy he would quietly say, "It's okay, Cara, I'm right here."
Big brothers. May they always be right there.
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