Peter stood on socked tip-toes to peer inside a brightly colored room where his parents stood, cooing lightly. He had a new baby brother.

Mika was still very little; he was barely a few days old. He was cute, Peter supposed, but he thought having a little brother would be cool. Mika was utterly helpless. All he did was sleep, eat, cry and poop. Quite frankly, Peter wasn't expecting this. He thought he'd finally have a playmate. Mika couldn't do anything.

Truth be told, Peter had gotten used to being an only child. Mama and Papa had all the time in the world for him. Now, Mika took up their time. If he cried, Mama would run to console him any way he could. If Peter cried, Mama and Papa would tell him he was a big boy and big boys don't cry, and that wasn't fair! Before Mika came along, if he cried, Mama would pull him into his lap and sing to him until he stopped! What's a five-year-old to do?

"Maybe Mama and Papa don't love me anymore." Peter though. "Maybe 'cause they got Mika from the baby store, they don't love me."

He had to make sure to reclaim his place in Mama and Papa's hearts.

Peter sat next to his mother, Mika in his arms. He was crying again and Tino was trying his best to quiet him.

"Mama, I'm bored. Can I play with you?"

"Oh, not right now, Peter. I'm trying to get Mika to sleep." Tino cooed to his eldest. "Why don't you go play with Papa?"

"Papa told me he's busy." Peter whined.

The conversation died off; the only sourse of noise being Mika's wailing.

"Mommy!"

"Not now, Peter! Give me a second!"

Peter huffed. "Mama!"

"Peter! Go watch tv in our room, okay? I can't get your brother to sleep! I'll deal with you in a minute!" Tino cried over Mika.

"I don't want to!" screamed Peter.

Tino pointed upstairs with his free arm. "Go. Now!"

Peter stamped up the stairs, Tino sighing and cooing to the baby. Maybe Papa had time for him now.

He stopped by his father's office. He knew Berwald was in there; he'd seen him! Suddenly, a hand from beneath the desk.

"Papa!" Peter cried.

"Peter, yer too b'g ta be scre'min' l'ke th't. Ya kn'w b'tt'r." Berwald mumbled under the desk. He was fishing around on the floor for a pen he'd dropped.

"I wanted to play with Mama, but he's got Mika and he got mad and told me to come here." said the boy.

"Papa's st'll v'ry b'sy, Peter. Why d'n't ya go w'tch tv in me 'nd yer Mama's room?"

"Mama told me that too." Peter whined.

"'ll pl'y w'th ya l't'r, Peter. 'kay? Papa's g't w'rk ta do. 't's v'ry 'mp'rt'nt."

Berwald sent his son off with a pat on the head.

Peter continued on, plopping onto his parents' bed. He grugingly turned on the tv, watching some cartoon mindlessly.

"Stupid Mama. Stupid Papa. Stupid baby."

Mika was stealing his parents' love from him. He had to do something. He had to show his mama and papa that he was the better son.

"Mama! Mama!"

"Peter, don't yell. I just got your brother to sleep. What's going on, honey?" Tino asked.

"I made you a picture!' Peter cried.

"You did?" Tino cooed.

"I painted it for you!"

"Oh, baby...paint's messy. Look, it's all over your clothes!"

And on the play room floor too.

"Peter! You painted without a mat?"

Peter hung his head. "You don't like it?"

"Peter Elliott Kirkland, just look at how messy this room is!"

"I'm sorry, Mommy..." Peter whined, tearing up.

Tino curtailed his anger, pulling the boy into his lap.

"Peter, don't cry, honey." Tino cooed. Peter felt right at home. Just like old times.

"Mommy's not mad at you. It's just that...you're a big boy now, Peter. Your little brother's going to look up to you one day, baby. You can't do things like this. You know better than to paint wthout covering your clothes or putting a mat on the floor. Mommy got angry and yelled and I scared you. Mommy's so sorry, baby. But, you have to show Mika what's right and wrong. Okay? He's not always going to be that little. One day, he's going to be as big as you."

'I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to make you happy."

"Mommy is happy. You always make Mommy happy, Peter."Tino said. "I love your picture. You even painted Hana. When it dries, I'll get Papa to put it on the fridge, okay?"

"Okay." Peter said as his mother wiped his face.

"You go wash your face. I'll clean the floor, then I'll give you a bath and wash these dirty clothes."

That wasn't the last time Peter did something he shouldn't have. Mama and Papa always made it clear that they weren't mad at him, just disappointed.

And even though he didn't know what "dishayplointnent" meant, Peter didn't like that sad look on his Mama's face.

"H've ya n't'ced th't Peter's been actin' out l'tely?" Berwald asked, sitting next to Tino on the couch.

"I have. I'm getting worried. Peter's never been a problem child. Today, his teacher called, saying he'd been sat out of class for passing licks to another boy. I'm scared he's learning this from kids at school." Tino replied.

Berwald shook his head. "Naw. I d'n't th'nk it h's anyth'n' ta do w'th school. I th'nk t's 'cause a wh't happ'nin' h're."

"Here?" Tino asked.

Tino thought for a moment. "Is Peter acting for attention because of the baby?"

"I th'nk sa. We need ta t'lk ta 'im."

"Peter, honey, can you come here?"

Peter entered the living room, Berwald quickly pulling the boy onto his lap.

"Did that boy hit you first, Peter?" Tino asked.

"T'll the tr'th, son." said Berwald.

"No."

"Why did you hit him?"

"He took my markers while I was using them." Peter explained.

"We didn't teach you to hit people, Peter."

"I'm sorry."

"Ya d'n't h't no b'dy, Peter. S'meth'n' h'ppens ta ya, ya go ta yer teach'r." Berwald said calmly. "Sh'll h'ndle it 'nd ya d'n't h've ta h't no b'dy."

"Did you say sorry to him?"

"Yeah." said Peter.

Tino sighed. "Peter, do you like being a big brother?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Do ya really?" asked his father.

"Uh-huh."

"I'll ask you one more time, Peter, and tell me and Papa the truth: Do you like being a big brother?"

Slowly, the boy shook his head.

"Why n't, son?"

"Cause...Mika's little and you like him best."

"Like him best?" Tino cried.

"Peter, yer br'th'r's a l'ttle baby. He needs us, all a us."

"So, why does he cry all the time, Papa? Why do you and Mama run to help him? You always say I'm a big boy."

"Because you are, honey. Peter, Mika's a baby. He can't talk like me, you and Papa. He has to cry so we can help him. We always have to be near him, but that doesn't mean me and Papa love him more." Tino explained.

"So, you don't like Mika more?"

"No! Peter, we could never do that!"

"Peter, th're's no w'y th't we could l've yer br'th'r m're th'n ya. We l've ya both equ'lly." Berwald said.

"That's right, Peter. Me and Papa can't imagine our lives without you and your brother. We were complete when we had you. One day, Mika's going to be your age and you're going to be a big, strong ten-year-old, helping your little brother. You're important to me and Papa and Mika and we love you more than the world itself." Tino said.

He pulled Peter into his lap, snuggling him. Berwald jumped up and went upstairs.

"I think, for now, you'll still be our baby. You can grow up when you're six." Tino joked.

Berwald returned, a cooing, squirming Mika in his arms.

"Mika l'ves ya too." he said.

The baby grabbed for his brother, Peter placing his finger in the baby's palm. Instinctively, his little fingers curled around it.

"You're such a good big brother, Peter." Tino cooed.

"He is...sa proud a 'im..."

"Mama!"

"Don't yell, baby, please."

"Sorry, Mama. What are you doing?" Peter asked.

"About to feed Mika. Hm..."

Tino bounced baby Mika in his arms, the child wailing for food.

"Peter, do you want to feed your brother?" Tino asked.

"Can I really, Mama?"

"You sure can, honey! You can hold him too."

"S't up n'ce 'nd straight, Peter." Berwald said, sitting Peter against the couch.

Tino gently lowered the baby into Peter's arms. "Oh, now, hold under his head, Peter."

Peter moved his arms accordingly. "Like this?"

"Just like that. Good boy!"

Berwald placed the baby bottle in Peter's free hand. "N'w ya feed it ta 'im."

Peter gingerly placed the bottle in his brother's mouth, smiling as Mika began to suckle and drink. "Look, Mama! He's drinking!"

"He sure is! How cute!" Tino cried happily as Berwald curled an arm around his waist.

"I kn'w...th't's a good b'y, Peter. Papa's v'ry proud a ya."

The proud parents watched their sons in absolute awe.

"This is too cute! I need a picture of this!"

Tino grabbed a camera, happily running back into the living room.

"Look at the camera, Peter!"

Peter looked up, smiling as his mother snapped the picture.

"So cute!"

He didn't need to prove that he existed or that he was the better child. Now, he just needed to prove that he was a good big brother.

A/N: I wrote this during class on Monday, and let a friend of mine read it. She said she loved it. I'm personally very proud of this because it's a very real issue for parents with young children. I hope you guys love it too! Read, review and enjoy!

LonelyHearts2008