It’s probably safe to say that as brothers go, Oscar and Edgar are at full tilt. Anyone who has seen them this week might have noticed the not-so-subtle bruises on Edgar’s cheek and forehead (the result of a prank by Oscar gone awry) and the three symmetrical scratches on Oscar’s cheek (a retaliatory gesture courtesy of Edgar and his wild fingernails). They fight, they wrestle, they argue. They are experiencing territory issues and instances of competition.
In other words, they’re siblings. They’re growing up and trying to figure out how to relate to one another while simultaneously attempting to field all the changes they’re experiencing as growing boys.
And just when you think, despite our most earnest entreaties, that there is no hope–that these two silly geese are destined to a lifetime of altercations and mischievous tricks, you get something like this:
Early one morning this week Oscar came downstairs and asked if he could write a note and slip it into Edgar’s lunch box “as a little surprise when he opened his bag.” I asked him what he wanted to write, thinking for sure the word “poop” would make its ubiquitous appearance; and lo and behold, the above is what he dictated. And, believe me, the presence of the heart did not go unnoticed.
The love is most assuredly there–and though it doesn’t thrill me that occasionally it must seemingly be coupled with the occasional bruise or scratch, I am learning that in the evolution of sibling relationships, especially those between brothers, this where it all begins.