19720000 Where art thou?

"We're making a quick run to the store. Keep an eye on your brother," Mom instructed. "Sure, okay" I replied. I barely glanced up from the book about electrical wiring that I had pulled from Grandpa's shelf. We were in my grandparent's living room, me perched on the couch and my baby brother on a blanket in the center of the floor. He wasn't mobile yet, only just able to lift his head off the ground.

I was completely immersed in the book, electrical principles clicking into place as quickly as I read them and scanned the drawings. I had no sense of time passing. "Where is your brother?" I pulled my nose out of the book. "What?" "WHERE IS YOUR BROTHER?" I stood up. "He's right th..." He wasn't right there. The blanket was empty.

Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Dad, and I stood in shock for a few moments. Then we set to searching. We split up and carefully checked the entire house. Panic started to set in. We expanded to the back yard, the front yard, down the street, the garage. We all met in the living room again, stumped, confused, and in tears. Where had I gone wrong? How could I lose my brother?

Someone thought to re-check the living room from top to bottom. We got on our hands and knees looking behind the curtains, in every cabinet and drawer, in the shadows and… Mom spotted him. "Why, you little..." My tiny infant brother, who had never even rolled over that we knew—much less crawled—was all the way against the wall under the couch, facing and grinning silently at us.

This was the beginning of a sibling dynamic (he did something, I got in trouble) that continued for many years.