Each one different, yet who can really tell?
Sixteen, thirteen, and seven, so separated by age, yet they all somehow get along,
they love each other no matter who gets hit in the nuts.
They’re defined by video games and baseball, shorts and T-shirts,
They all just happen to be younger,
they don’t listen all the time, play football in the street ’til after dark, ask for “five more
minutes, please”,
even though bedtime was twenty-five minutes ago as it is,
pass Math only because they have to.
Logan’s the exception to that rule. He’s the “Math genius” in his seven year old mind.
They watch ESPN for hours, Brett actually doesn’t mind washing his own laundry,
getting pizza is the highlight of Matt’s week, especially if it’s Hawaiian.
They hate summer reading, love nights by the fire, piss me off when they won’t shut up.
They love Vermont, the wide open fields, playing volleyball in the front yard,
and laughing when I slip and fall on the wet grass.
Candy is their best friend,
peas, their enemy,
Late night TV is usually Food network. But they’ll always deny it.
Two of them are afraid of lizards and mice, the youngest always uses it against them.
You piss him off, his bearded dragon goes straight in your face.
And then they scream and we all laugh.
They won’t admit it, but they know it’s funny.
Teachers suck, doctors are scary, shopping is the worst thing women ever invented.
The oldest needs money, yet won’t find a job and hates the fact that I found one first.
They annoy the shit out of me. They’re just way too friggen much sometimes.
But I always know that they’re there. That they’ll beat the shit out of anyone for me.
That I can count on them to stick up for me if I ever need it.
They listen when you ask, leave you alone when bitch.
Go beat red when you rant about your period.
They won’t even touch a box of tampons.
Love ‘em, hate ‘em,
Can’t wait ‘til we both leave for college next fall.
I’ll finally get a break.
And I know I’ll miss it all.
Logan telling me about his entire day of school, his ninth birthday party,
Matt’s sophomore year of high school, getting his permit, taking Driver’s Ed.
And if Brett chooses to go into the Service, at least the Marines will get a good kid.
If that’s the way you choose to go, then good luck, Brett. Be safe.
I love you guys.