One of my kids used to think he was probably swapped at birth with someone else’s kid at the hospital.

He and his brother are SO different, it’s not funny. So different, that Spawn the Younger used to ask me quite often if he was adopted.  I realise now that he may have been quite concerned.

YS (after asking about being adopted for the eleventy-hundredth time): But do you remember actually HAVING me Mum?

Me (getting frustrated ‘cos I’d rather be sleeping or drinking alcohol or smoking crack than going through this AGAIN): Um YES! Because you was born after  just one and a half hours labour, and weighed in at 10lb 11oz.  I’d think I’d freakin’ remember it alright! The doctor was so eager to weigh you that he almost ran to the scales, and you were the biggest natural birth on record at our country hospital at that time. There was NO other baby in the hospital they could have swapped you with, unless they grabbed a visiting 6 month old, and I think I would have noticed that.

YS(not convinced): Yeah OK, then, whatever…

Me: *head explodes*

He’s got a point though. Some notable differences

Elder Spawn: Tidy (and THAT is some freaky shit for a teenage boy)

Younger Spawn: Untidy doesn’t BEGIN to describe his room. Or his school bag. At the end of term, we don HAZMAT suits to clean it out. Families could live for a week on the refuse in the bottom of the bag. The kid is a pig.

Elder Spawn: Tall, thin, tanned with brown hair and deep brown eyes.

Younger Spawn: Shorter, solider, tanned with naturally snow white blonde hair (even at 14), and blue, blue eyes.

Elder Spawn: Slow to get angry or upset, but when he does? Get the hell out of his way.

Younger Spawn: Quick temper. Goes off like a firecracker, then everything’s alright half an hour later.

Elder Spawn: Pretty quiet. A fairly cool customer.

Younger Spawn: Commonly asked to “Shut the HELL UP!”

There’s nothing about these two to indicate to anyone that didn’t know them, they are brothers, let alone related.

But seeing Younger Spawn with an hand on his older and much taller brothers shoulder, checking he was OK a couple of weeks ago? Seeing him taking him drinks because he didn’t know what else to do? Watching him, watching his brother with his brow all furrowed with concern?

That’s brothers are all about.

I wish I’d had the camera right then. Because at the end of the day - it’s not genetics that matter, it’s just you and your brother that matter - related by blood or not.