✏️ Big Brother / Little Sister [SummerCamp2024]

Diary / Not Responsible

Dear Diary,

I don't know if I'm feeling good now, or not. I'm smiling, which has to be a good sign, I guess. But I'm also nervous and confused. I bet I won't even remember this feeling, so I need to write it down while it's still in my mind.

I was sitting in the lounge, trying to tidy up. Although we'd put a lot of Rosie's bedding back on her bed so that she could sleep, there were still sheets and spare pillows scattered around the lounge, and I hadn't even started tidying up the toys. I sighed, and bent down to pick up the big cuddly shark. Rosie had called her Blanch, hadn't she? Something like that, anyhow. I walked through to the kitchen, and reached up to the high shelf again. I needed to stand on tiptoes, because the shelf was so high; that was why we didn't use it for food or utensils. But even stretching my arm as high as I could, somehow I couldn't reach today. I held onto the tail of a cuddly shark almost as big as I was, extending her fully above my head, and her cute little snout couldn't even touch the bottom of the shelf.

I pouted and threw Blanch down on the floor. She was a bad shark now, but she looked so sad and I just wanted to give her a hug. I knelt down to pick her up again, and her warm fuzz made it easier to not think about bad things, or hard things.

"Aww, did you drop Sharkie?" Ben asked, and my head jerked up towards him. I squeezed Blanch tighter. "It's okay, sweetie. But you shouldn't be in the kitchen on your own. Let's get you back to your room.

"Wait!" I protested. "I need to tidy up!" But he picked me up like he didn't hear me at all.

"Poor baby," Rosie said, stroking my hair, and a little giggle escaped my lips. "Come on, let's get you back to your room so Mommy and Daddy can tidy up after your party."

"Not a baby!" I yelled indignantly. "I'm eight!"

I was so proud that I was eight now, it felt like a real milestone. And I didn't like that they kept on calling me a baby. It didn't even occur to me in the moment that I was much older than that; or that there was no reason Rosie would ever be older than me. Thinking back to it now, it seems obvious that I was dreaming. But in that moment, everything just seemed so real.

"Aww!" Rosie answered. "She's trying to talk. Can you say Mommy? Ma-ma-ma?"

"I'm not a baby!" I argued again. "I can help tidy up, I can do it all by myself. Please. You don't need to talk down to me like that." But it was like they didn't even hear me. Ben just told me how clever I was, and urged me to try saying Da-da next.

"Please," I said, squirming, and trying to get out of Daddy's grip. "I can walk by myself."

"Somebody doesn't want to be carried," Ben said, smiling over my head. "Maybe she thinks she can walk by herself. Such a big girl."

"Big enough to be out of diapers," Rosie said, and the tone in her voice was so loving, even if I didn't like her words. I glanced down at myself, and saw that I was wearing the same kind of childish jumpsuit we'd picked out for Rosie. And on some level, I think I started to notice then that something wasn't quite right. She was right though, I was old enough not to need diapers now, and had been for a long time. "I wonder if that was wise."

"I don't think she's that big yet," Ben joked. "Big girls don't have little accidents, do they?"

"I don't!" I said, as Ben patted my tummy like I really was just a baby. It felt nice, I couldn't deny that, but I wanted him to understand that I was a big girl. "I'm eight now, I'm not a baby, and I don't need you..." My voice went quiet as I felt a sudden confusion, a sensation I couldn't put a name to. And then there was a warm sensation around my legs. Still looking down, I could see the growing wet patch that showed I was peeing my pants, but I couldn't find the internal levers to make it stop. It was like trying to roll my tongue, which I'd never managed; I could see in my mind's eye what I needed to do, but the path from here to there just didn't seem to exist.