I first met him about eleven years ago. It was a hot summer day and my late grandmother had received a phone call from the hospital. We drove in, walked into the hospital room where my mother laid sleeping in a bed and my father stood really close by with a bundle in his arms.

He was the little bundle of joy.

I still remember, as if it was yesterday, being so prideful and happy as I carried him; and my love for him grew catastrophically as my father pulled him away from me and he began to wail. He was my little baby brother. He was so precious and I loved him so much; my most fond memories always involve my brother in one way or another.

But then, a problem arose: he became cooler than me.

(Disclaimer: Yes, I realize this implies that I was cool at one point in time, but I was! My brother used to look up to me!)

My little brother has the world’s supply of charisma and sarcasm, he has more friends than me, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the difference in likes on my Twitter account between when I post about myself and when I post about him.

Of course, he has his flaws: one, he is a middle schooler (let’s face it, we all regret those days); two, he has a Spotify account dedicated to Queen and Weird Al; three, he is in love with Ryan Reynolds and wants to become the actor someday; and finally, he fixed a laptop computer I thought was broken – now this is actually pretty cool, except my brother decided to fix it only AFTER I REPLACED MY BROKEN LAPTOP!

Honestly, my brother is just a really funny, weird guy that everybody wants to hang out with. Frankly, I am lucky he is my brother; otherwise, he wouldn’t tolerate me. But then again, I don’t know if I would tolerate him walking into my room to say, “Janie, I’m bored. What’s it like to paint nails? Can I try to paint yours?”

It’s fine that my friends want to be his best friend over mine, because I know, deep down inside, that the only person who raised him, cared for him, knows everything about him, and can make my little brother roll-around-on-the-floor-with-tears-in-his-eyes-laugh, is me.

Editor’s Note: Jane Elliston is a Senior at Fair Grove High School, she writes about her life and the challenges she faces. Also, her brother IS cooler than her.