As the clock strikes 3 p.m., a transformation takes place at our house. “Give me that remote!” Jaad yells. “Shut up! I’m trying to do my homework!” Sam screams from the upstairs bedroom. Out of pure spite to Sam, I begin to hear the Metallica blasting from another bedroom and the T.V. blaring in the family room. My own quest to find refuge has now begun. I walk into the kitchen hoping for salvation but my mom is hard at work making tons of snacks for everyone. She grabs the tray of food and makes her way to the door, making sure to slip me some food first. One thing I’ve learned from living with four older brothers is there are never any leftovers so you had to get to the dinner table fast and if snacks were being handed out, you always had to be on your toes.

Food skills aren’t all that I’ve acquired from growing up in a household with such high testosterone levels. Each brother has made it their duty to pass on essential pieces of advice that could lead me in the right direction. Whether one brother is preaching the high importance of a good golf swing, or another brother, calling me into his room to watch the Godfather for what seems like the billionth time, I’ve become a little more multi-faceted. They have opened my eyes to the reality of consequences when they’ve gotten themselves into troublesome situations and helped me learn my multiplication tables when I never thought I would.

Although the house may be unbearable at times with the constant chaos and I’ve contemplated being an only child a few times in my life, I wouldn’t trade my brothers for all the after school snacks in the world.