I was looking online and found this prompt and I thought it was really funny. There could be a million reasons why an older sibling would consider trying to cook their younger sibling. So instead of telling the story from the younger sibling's point of view, I thought it would interesting telling it from the older sibling's perspective.
I was 6, okay? I didn't know a lot but I knew enough to actually make me want to put my little brother on a stove and attempt to cook him. I remember it like it was yesterday. I even remember the color of my shirt and the color the sky was that day. It was a different day for me. It was the day I officially became an older brother.
I woke up and I looked out my window and saw the great big sky. I you would assume it was blue, right? Wrong. Clouds filled the sky as the sun tried to peek through like someone trying to breathe under a thick blanket. I woke up that morning feeling good. Not great and not bad but good. I went to the kitchen where I was greeted by my mom, dad, and my 1 or 2 year old little brother. My parents did their usual Sunday routine: turn on the radio, open the curtains, feed the dogs, and make a delicious breakfast. I guess I woke up a little later than normal because everything was done and breakfast was already on the stove. Ahh, the stove. Something that fascinated me ever since I was a little kid. My parents are both chefs so I spent almost my entire life in a kitchen surrounded by the fires in coming from the stoves. The way the fire popped out of each hole like a gofer popping out to see the sun. The fire was always a purple-blue and orange color. The way it could heat up a pan within a couple minutes amazed me.
I set the table with the plates and napkins and I sat down next to Logan. I was ready to dive into the eggs and bacon when suddenly my dad asks me to get a drink for Logan. I get his orange juice in his favorite glass. Then I sit down and put some of the eggs on my plate when Logan spills the Orange juice all over his clothes and puts food all in his hair. Mom asks me to help her change Logan and get him into some new clothes. Although I was getting a little impatient, I went anyway. After that I finally sat down to eat and I was satisfied.
In the afternoon, we went to the park near our house. I was so excited to play football with my dad. I made sure that the ball fully pumped. When we got to the park Dad said he had something big planned for us. I was hoping that the surprise would be that he would teach me more about football. So when we got to the park he brought a camera and a toy car for Logan to ride in. I was so upset. The entire time we were at the park we just walked around pushing Logan in his toy car. Mom was taking pictures of Dad pushing Logan all around the park. When we got home I was so angry but I didn't want them to know that I was. So when they went upstairs to get ready for a dinner they were going to, I took Logan and sat him down in a chair. I asked him so many questions I regret asking: Why were you born? Why are you ruining my life? Why are you stealing my parents away from me? I was furious. All Logan did was stare at me. I couldn't believe it. I was screaming at him and all he did was stare and laugh. That was it.
I was done with Logan. In the heat of my anger I come to a decision: I was going to cook my little brother. I put a pan on the stove and picked Logan up and put him on the pan. As I was attempting to turn on the fire, my parents came downstairs. My mom screamed when she saw Logan. They both ran to us and picked Logan up. Mom was checking Logan to see if he was okay while dad was getting mad at me. They explained to me how it was a safety hazard and how bad Logan could've gotten hurt. Then mom asked me why I would ever think of cooking Logan. That's when I burst out into tears and explained how I felt. They both gave me a big hug and explained to me how life was different now that I have a sibling. They also told me that they both love us equally and we need to cherish the time we have together especially while Logan is still a baby. That day I realized that I will always need to share stuff (even my parents) with my brother.
I woke up and I looked out my window and saw the great big sky. I you would assume it was blue, right? Wrong. Clouds filled the sky as the sun tried to peek through like someone trying to breathe under a thick blanket. I woke up that morning feeling good. Not great and not bad but good. I went to the kitchen where I was greeted by my mom, dad, and my 1 or 2 year old little brother. My parents did their usual Sunday routine: turn on the radio, open the curtains, feed the dogs, and make a delicious breakfast. I guess I woke up a little later than normal because everything was done and breakfast was already on the stove. Ahh, the stove. Something that fascinated me ever since I was a little kid. My parents are both chefs so I spent almost my entire life in a kitchen surrounded by the fires in coming from the stoves. The way the fire popped out of each hole like a gofer popping out to see the sun. The fire was always a purple-blue and orange color. The way it could heat up a pan within a couple minutes amazed me.
I set the table with the plates and napkins and I sat down next to Logan. I was ready to dive into the eggs and bacon when suddenly my dad asks me to get a drink for Logan. I get his orange juice in his favorite glass. Then I sit down and put some of the eggs on my plate when Logan spills the Orange juice all over his clothes and puts food all in his hair. Mom asks me to help her change Logan and get him into some new clothes. Although I was getting a little impatient, I went anyway. After that I finally sat down to eat and I was satisfied.
In the afternoon, we went to the park near our house. I was so excited to play football with my dad. I made sure that the ball fully pumped. When we got to the park Dad said he had something big planned for us. I was hoping that the surprise would be that he would teach me more about football. So when we got to the park he brought a camera and a toy car for Logan to ride in. I was so upset. The entire time we were at the park we just walked around pushing Logan in his toy car. Mom was taking pictures of Dad pushing Logan all around the park. When we got home I was so angry but I didn't want them to know that I was. So when they went upstairs to get ready for a dinner they were going to, I took Logan and sat him down in a chair. I asked him so many questions I regret asking: Why were you born? Why are you ruining my life? Why are you stealing my parents away from me? I was furious. All Logan did was stare at me. I couldn't believe it. I was screaming at him and all he did was stare and laugh. That was it.
I was done with Logan. In the heat of my anger I come to a decision: I was going to cook my little brother. I put a pan on the stove and picked Logan up and put him on the pan. As I was attempting to turn on the fire, my parents came downstairs. My mom screamed when she saw Logan. They both ran to us and picked Logan up. Mom was checking Logan to see if he was okay while dad was getting mad at me. They explained to me how it was a safety hazard and how bad Logan could've gotten hurt. Then mom asked me why I would ever think of cooking Logan. That's when I burst out into tears and explained how I felt. They both gave me a big hug and explained to me how life was different now that I have a sibling. They also told me that they both love us equally and we need to cherish the time we have together especially while Logan is still a baby. That day I realized that I will always need to share stuff (even my parents) with my brother.