No matter how old, how tall, how hairy – or bald – he gets, he will always be my little brother. And he's stuck forever in my head as a child. I have gone through life pretty much amazed that the authorities have allowed a 12-year-old to join up, marry and have kids.



The last time I visited, he and I were out with the boys one Saturday afternoon. We went to cross a busy road in town and I grabbed their hands. In one hand I held one of the kids and in the other I held my little brother. Think that's sad? The really weird thing about it is that he let me.

In our family I'm not alone in this – dynamics don't change. Mother may well be powering towards her dotage, but stick her in a room with her big brother and sister and she reverts to a sulky teenager, feeling put upon and bossed about by the other two. The only way she can cope with it is if she in turn gets to lord it over her younger sister.

Everyone is the same. No matter how old you get, how successful you become in life, how many children of your own you might have, the second you're near your brothers and sisters you fall straight back into the behaviour of your childhood. That can be little brother (who everyone runs around after, pandering to their every whim) or big sister (who has to do all the work and who everyone thinks is really bossy, but in reality is just trying to get things done).



The relationship that you have with your siblings could make you the kind of person that revels in family life, enjoying having your brothers, sisters, cousins, Uncle Tom Cobley and all around you. Or you could grow up to be the type that would prefer to poke their eyes out with a sharp stick rather than spend time with their nearest and dearest.



Studies say that your partner generally holds the same family position as you. Eldest children marry eldest children, that kind of thing. And it's true that Mr Turner and I are both the oldest in our families. The researchers reckon that you are drawn to someone who has a shared sensibility about the natural order of things. What it actually means is that you find someone who shares your sense of outrage about how younger siblings got away with blue murder after you'd fought the good fight on curfews, clothes and haircuts.

However, it's all about to change. It's time for the 12-year-old to grow up. Some months ago, Mother decreed that she could only possibly have one child over the age of 40. Since next month marks the big four-0 for my wee bro, it seems as if I will finally get the big brother of my dreams. Someone who will take my hand when we're crossing the road.