excerpt numero tres. (mis hermanos/my brothers)

Growing up with four brothers was not always the best thing. Each one was different and it wasn’t all that serene around the house. My parents were always telling them that they had no sense of propriety. (It was then that I learned what the word “rude” meant). My brothers were very prudent when it came to their behavior inside and outside of our home, though. They knew what they could and couldn’t get away with in certain places. Around guests or family friends, they had to be as modest as could be. They had to be humble and quiet and use every manner they knew. But they also knew that when my parents were around friends, they couldn’t get mad at them. Every time one of them did something, I would look over and see my parents executing a great deal of equanimity. But, once things got a bit too unruly, my mom would look over at them and give them that stare of hers that told them they would be condemned to a horrible punishment back home.
(my brothers, in RANDOM order)
One of my brothers was always very brusque. He did things his way and didn’t want anyone else’s advice. He went about doing his thing and didn’t take time to be with us. I have solemn memories of growing up with him for that reason. He was never around, and when he was, he was a bit too abrupt with me so I try to block those memories out.
The other was very caustic and still is. People say he and I are very similar, and it must be true ‘cause he’s the smart one in the family. He is the wittiest person I know. He comes up with the darnest things! Everyone knows him for that. While some people are notorious for their very insolent manner when treating others, he gets praised for his hilarious sarcastic jokes and witty comments.
My other brother was always known as the fractious one. He fought about everything with everyone! He always had to be right. No matter what it was, he ALWAYS had to be the right one. This brought forth tons of quarrels in our family.
The last brother has always been known as the incorrigible one. No matter what my parents did, he never listened. He was bad to the bone! Always misbehaving and being rude! Growing up with him was the hardest part of actually growing up. I thought that I’d never make it to see my 6th birthday! At times we thought he was an ingrate and didn't appreciate anything we did for him. But, we soon realize that he was simply rancorous due to a few things that he had to live through when he was younger, and we were able to help him get past it.
Although my brothers were filled with what some exaggerated people may call, "malice", my brothers all grew up to be successful people. Sure my parents accused them of malfeasance once in a while and granted, most of the time they were right, my brothers never meant to harm anybody (not even my mother's favorite old and brittle stock pot which was broken on account of my brothers tried playing baseball with it and a not so putrid lemon). And, I love them so. (: