I have one sibling. A brother seven years younger. Ironically, his name starts with a B. I can’t remember when he was little. For that matter, I can’t really remember when I was little. How much are we supposed to remember about our childhood? I don’t know. I wonder if there’s something unhealthy about not remembering.
Have you ever looked at your brother or sister, or mom or dad, and noticed something you’d never noticed before? How did it affect you?