If I may, your honour

I was on trial today.  Literally.  My brother needed a trial witness for his mock defence exams and guess who he hauled to court kicking, screaming and complaining?  Oh yeah, I forgot.  That’s what sisters are for.  

You know the funny thing about having a little brother.  You grow up as kids – playing, fighting, laughing, crying but there’s always been a mother hen instinct that I’ve never been able to shake off.  Today as I watched him cross-examine the witnesses, talk to his friends, make conversation with his tutors, I couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride and thinking, wow, he’s all grown up.  

I remember picking him up from primary school once and watching him as he went about his recess and as he played with his friends.  More than ten years later, I watch him again and the same thoughts are running through my head “Is he playing well with others? Do the other kids like him?  Do the teachers like him? Is he happy, secure, well adjusted? “

Yup, he’s all grown up.  So much so that his tutor mistook me for his younger sister.  Nice.


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