My Secret Protégés

I don’t have any younger siblings so there is no-one I can truly say I’ve watched grow up, but I have a few younger cousins whose births I remember (one of whom I also remember seeing being breast-fed when I was about seven, which was such a striking image to me at the time, it has faded little over the years) and whose development I took an interest in as I grew up myself. I did this with some sense that my worldly wisdom was sufficiently more mature than theirs to be valuable to them, and not so much older so as to be parental, inaccessible, or irrelevant.

There were two who I was particularly interested in who are now 16 and 18, one from either side of my family. Both are the eldest in their families and I liked the idea of being a surrogate big brother to them as I never had the little brother I had wanted. One of the great perks of this soi-disant role was that it was very much a part-time job as I didn’t see either of them very often, I never had to row with them for any reason like real big brother’s have to do (yes, it’s obligatory), and the best part of it all was that though they served the function of being my surrogate little brothers, my corresponding role only existed in my head and so I was never called upon to do anything of any responsibility.

That said, I was given the job of baby-sitting one of them once and was never given the job again as I was far too permissive a guardian. I cut a deal that was based on the premise that it was fine to stay up many hours beyond ordinary bed-time so long as his mother didn’t find out about it. Of course she did though – my first practical illustration of how the law about entering contracts with minors is very sensible for all concerned.

Anyway, both of these guys are very intelligent. The fact they are both smarter than me became obvious to me at a very early age. I remember being acutely aware of this not only in their general behaviour, but in their extra-ordinary vocabulary (for their ages) and have distinct memories of each of them exposing me to words I hadn’t heard before; namely, “carnivore” and “solicitor” (two words I still use interchangeably as I have not grasped the essence of either yet).

I went for a couple of pints with the older cuz last week and it would be difficult for me to exaggerate how brilliant I think this guy is. Having seen him grow up, it seemed like a great celebration for me that my surrogate little brother is now officially adult, and technically a member of my peer group – however much he eclipses me in intelligence.

I have to admit that I did feel old talking to him and found it difficult to keep my sage and worldly pronouncements to myself – being entirely inappropriate as they are now that we are on an equivocal level. But interestingly, I also felt that I wasn’t at all as well-rounded or mature at 18 years of age as he is now, and when we parted company I began to recall all the stammering social awkwardness of my late teens that my young cousin seems to be by-passing with the greatest ease, filled as he is with confidence and exuberance, tinctured liberally with healthy amounts of cynicism and humour.

It’s great to think that I have future years of us being buddies to look forward to, and it’s also good that he’s turned out in a way that I can be proud of him; but while I will always have the benefit of a few extra years, very much gone are the days when I thought I had a world of things to teach my young cousin. From what I can tell, he has it all wrapped up.

I wonder if the younger one, who has two years of education to catch up to his fellow surrogate, will be quite so impressive. I suppose it’s all good for me either way. It means I can either be just as proud of him, and hope he still likes me, or else I can continue in my subtle benevolence and encourage his flourishing – a job I expect I would delight in.