My brother Aren listens to me sometimes; sometimes he doesn't listen. He threw a banana on my nose (heh!) and hit me. I hit him back sometimes. Otherwise, sometimes when my mother and father tell me to keep quiet, I keep quiet; they correct him sometimes.
My mother makes him stand in the corner. My father sometimes shouts or sometimes keeps quiet. He argues with elders.
At the moment, he is climping up the table and he is telling Nanna "You give me the teapot."
He is little naughty, but also at the same time he's good. He stopped hitting. He has to stop pulling my hair and stop biting me to be a good boy.
[Photo: Aren is playing with all his toys, and posing. He has made a "computer".]
No I don't want any other brother, because I like him.
technorati tags:brother, Aren, home
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