Matthew can be having a total meltdown and if he hears Garrett's voice he just might stop. Not every time mind you. Not when he's just finished projectile vomiting and his face looks like I shoved it in a cream pie because it's covered in regurgitated formula. Sorry. But just, you know, not then. Otherwise, yeah, he pretty much adores his big brother.
Then there is Garrett.
G: Hi Little Buddy.
Me: Do you love him?
G: Yes, I love him.
Me: How much?
G: Too much.
Me: Too much, huh?
G: Way, way, too much.
Me: How long do you think he should live with us?
G: About seven minutes.
Lucky for us he usually says, "Forever and ever." When I say, "Tell it to the judge," he responds with, "Okay! I go tell him! He in Californa?" (Not a misspelling. That's how he says it)
I can hear it now. "Excuse me, Your Honor, my toddler has something to say to you."
I'm sure this would be the point where he'd reiterate that he only wants Matthew for seven minutes. In fairness, seven minutes and forever and ever are all the same to Garrett. He also says things like, "Remember last night when I was born?" And I'm all, "Dude, kid, if you were born weighing 30 pounds with a head the size of a small watermelon we would so not be friends. And, more importantly, I hope with all of my heart that you don't recall your own birth."
But seriously, they're like the best of friends. When Matthew was projectile vomiting, Garrett ran and got a Band-Aid. "Here, Little Buddy. This make it all better." And somehow I missed the memo on that one but that's a home remedy I could definitely get on board with.
Here are my boys. Big Brother & Little Brother. Best buddies. My pride and joy!