All my life, I dreamed of being in my brothers shoesuntil everything changed.
Mum fell pregnant with me when she was just nineteen. Dad vanished faster than a pint on a Friday night, unwilling to trade parties for nappies. My grandparents were livid, convinced an unmarried daughter was a scandal. Grandad kicked her out, declaring hed no room for an irresponsible girl under his roof.
Mum had it rough, but she soldiered on. She enrolled in night classes, landed a job, and scraped by in a tiny student flat. I grew up fastdoing the shopping, cleaning, reheating meals. Playtime wasnt in the cards; from toddlerhood, I was too busy helping.
I never complained. Even as a kid, I felt like the man of the house.
Then came Oliver. He won me over instantlysweets, takeaways, the works. Mum glowed. One day, she announced theyd marry and move to a proper house. I was chuffedfinally, a dad!
At first, life improved. No morechoresjust books, music, my own room. Oliver doted on Mum, and she bloomed.
Months later, Mum dropped the bombshell: a sibling was coming. Soon after, Oliver informed me Id be swapping my bedroom for a glorified cupboardthe nursery needed space. Never mind the spare rooms gathering dust.
By morning, my belongings were exiled. Unfair? Absolutely. But I kept quiet.
When Alfie arrived, so did sleepless nights. His wailing wrecked my schoolwork. Teachers scolded; Mum fumed. *You should set an example! Instead, youre just lazy and embarrassing us.*
Alfie grew, and I became his unpaid nannypushing his pram while the lads jeered.
Everything was for Alfie. If I asked for trainers? *Moneys tight.* I walked him to nursery, fed him, cleaned. I prayed hed grow up fast.
School came. Mum ordered me to tutor him. Spoilt and stubborn, he flunked anyway. If I dared discipline him, hed whinge to Mum, whod take his side.
After bouncing through schools, Alfie landed in a posh private onewhere grades came with a hefty price tag.
I fled to technical college, studying mechanics (not my passionjust an escape). Later, uni and a job. I worked doubles, saving for a flat. Years on, I married.
Alfie? Oliver bought him a flat, but he still mooches at Mums. Lives off rent, allergic to work.
At a New Years dinner, Alfies girlfriend vented in the kitchen: *Youre lucky with Tomhardworking, reliable. Why cant Alfie step up? I beg him to commit, but hes glued to your mums apron strings.*
My wife chuckled. *Toms brilliant. Ditch Alfiehell never change.*
She was right. Countless girls tried fixing Alfie. Hed rather binge telly on the sofa. Mum sabotaged every relationshipno ones *good enough* for her golden boy.
Thats when it hit me: Im proud. Life paid me backa loving wife, a cheeky daughter, a home I earned. Meanwhile, Alfies still stuck, and Mums still making excuses.
Turns out, the underdog won after all.
