My little brother

March 15, 1982

My little brother cries. My little brother spies. He likes to look at me. He chews on my fingers. He likes my family He squeaks in the night. He is growing up like me. He likes to pull hair. He practically stands up with a little help. He would like to come to school some day to learn what one plus one is. He likes to look at pretty and bright things too. I wouldn't give him away for a bunch of gold.