To My Little Boys

Dear Micah and Hyrum,

I want you to remember today.

Lately, you've been switching beds--one brother gets the top bunk for a week, then on Monday it switches. I don't know how you came to this arrangement, but it is one example of the close relationship you two enjoy. Hyrum, you are much more of a morning person than Micah, and you jump out of bed almost every morning, but Micah takes a little longer. This morning was no exception. After scriptures and prayer, I sent you both upstairs to clean your room and get dressed before breakfast.

None of this sounds unusual, does it? It's not, and that's what I want you to remember.

You've shared a room as long as you both can remember, and I think that proximity to each other all the time is what has made you such good friends. Some mornings, I hear wrestling noises coming from your room as you take each other on like a pair of puppies. Almost always it ends with one or both of you crying, Mom coming upstairs and yelling at you to get back to work. Some mornings, I hear yelling and accusations: "I didn't get that out! Put your socks away! Get off my bed!" This scenario has almost the same ending as the one above--with Mom coming to sort out the unfairness in your cleaning. Yesterday, I was summoned into your room by screams of agony as you had bonked heads so hard that neither of you was even standing up. That one, it turns out, was "no one's fault," just an accident.

This morning, as I was making breakfast and assembling lunches, all I heard coming down the front stairs was laughter. I couldn't understand any of your words, but the sounds of you both enjoying being together in the morning, laughing at the same funny comment, getting ready for school together made me stop what I was doing for just a moment.

You two are so lucky. From the moment you wake up until the moment you fall asleep (opposite from the morning--Hyrum, you're always first, and Micah always has his nose in a book until much later), you get to be with your best friend. I don't think either one of you would call the other your best friend, but as the mom, I see it. I see it when you squabble over who lost on purpose playing Mario Brawl on the Wii. I see it when you argue over whose socks are whose. I see it while you do homework each day, sitting side by side at the desk. I see it when you leave for school together each morning and return home the same way. I see it during your creative adventures--fashioning bows, arrows, spears, and swords from every straight thing you can find--then concocting an enemy and a plan. I see it between you while you draw new Pokemon during Church. I see it in the way you look at each other.

I know brothers fight, and I know brothers argue, and I know brothers disagree, but I hope you will always see the best friend you have in your corner, the brother who will always have your back, the buddy who will never let you down.

Two chocolate-eyed, brown-skinned, rough-and-tumble brothers. I'm forever grateful that you have each other. And I'm so happy that you're both mine.