I believe one of the most frustrating times in my life was learning to deal with my older brother, Mack, and how others treated him versus me. Truly I did not understand why years made us so different. To me two years was really nothing in the grand scheme of things, but growing up adults seemed to see it much more differently, specifically our grandparents. During the summers we would visit them Mack and I would take to doing odd jobs to earn a little spending money. Due to my brother being older and therefore more able to do jobs he tended to get the harder work than I. Then when it came time for us to be payed I began to notice a trend of Mack receiving higher wages than I for what I saw as the same amount of work. My emotions started getting
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The day was like any other, the sun was high in the sky while the birds chased grasshoppers. With sweat beading on my brow it became apparent that I needed a drink. I had been weeding my grandmother’s garden, trying to be careful not to accidentally pluck her precious gardenias. During my small break Mack was being paid for his days’ work of mowing the front and back yard. The amount he earned was twice that of what I made regularly. Not even the ice cold water could calm my rage. Though it came out more obnoxious than I had intended, I finally voiced my thoughts. Why did Mack get so much more than I did when we worked for the same amount of time? He didn’t even work as hard as me! With a concerned look, my grandmother set me down. She explained that since Mack was older he was able to do tougher jobs. They didn’t want me to get hurt by trying to do what he was able to do easily. As a result, he was paid more since he could do more. My anger subsided, but my frustration did not. After that I began to give my brother a shoulder so cold it could sink the Titanic. It wasn’t until I was about to begin high school, and took over Mack’s previous jobs, that I realized my grandparents were right. His jobs had been more difficult than mine and deserved much more than what I thought they
The day was like any other, the sun was high in the sky while the birds chased grasshoppers. With sweat beading on my brow it became apparent that I needed a drink. I had been weeding my grandmother’s garden, trying to be careful not to accidentally pluck her precious gardenias. During my small break Mack was being paid for his days’ work of mowing the front and back yard. The amount he earned was twice that of what I made regularly. Not even the ice cold water could calm my rage. Though it came out more obnoxious than I had intended, I finally voiced my thoughts. Why did Mack get so much more than I did when we worked for the same amount of time? He didn’t even work as hard as me! With a concerned look, my grandmother set me down. She explained that since Mack was older he was able to do tougher jobs. They didn’t want me to get hurt by trying to do what he was able to do easily. As a result, he was paid more since he could do more. My anger subsided, but my frustration did not. After that I began to give my brother a shoulder so cold it could sink the Titanic. It wasn’t until I was about to begin high school, and took over Mack’s previous jobs, that I realized my grandparents were right. His jobs had been more difficult than mine and deserved much more than what I thought they