Last week after getting home from the hospital I still wasn’t feeling completely up to snuff, so my family moved my bed down into the living room on the main floor of the house. That way I wouldn’t have to climb the stairs, thus causing my poor thighs and hips more strain. They turned the living room into a lovely little bedroom for me, curtaining it off, installing a television and my own little room air conditioner. It was fabulous.

    Or, at least, it seemed fabulous, until the bugs invaded. As I got all cuddled up in bed, ready to sleep for the night, I looked up at the vast ceiling and realized I was sharing my room with several unfriendly-looking bugs. I swatted at a few fliers, I squashed a few spiders, and all in all I guess I created quite a rucus. Unfortunately I forgot that the living room is directly underneath my brother Steven’s room, because a few moments later he appeared in my doorway, looking very sleepy and very mad.

    Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he blearily asked, “What are you doing?” I pointed up at the leftovers of the bug massacre in the corner, and squeaked, “Bugs! They’re everywhere! I’m sorry!” He blinked silently at me a few times and then disappeared.

    I thought Steve had gone back up to bed, which left me alone with the bugs, wondering what to do next. My nephew was upstairs, occupying my usual bed in the guest room (it’s complicated – ever since surgery I’ve moved out of my bedroom and have been slowly annexing the rest of the house), so I couldn’t exactly run away to another bug-free bed. But then just as I was about to give up in desperation, Steve showed back up in my doorway.

    Steve’s pajamas might as well have been a knight’s shining suit of armor, because he wandered into my temporary bedroom wielding the best weapon possible – a big roll of tape. Even though his blissful sleep had been so rudely interrupted by my bug-killing, he figured out where all the bugs must have been sneaking through, and decided to fix it for me. The little room air conditioner that had been installed in the window for me had opened up a few gaps, allowing enough room for all manner of insects to crawl through and torment me. Steve curled up on the floor and after a few minutes of thorough taping, he’d fixed the problem completely, all without saying a word.

    When he was finished, he stood up, set the tape down on the table, and said, “There you go, they shouldn’t bother you anymore. Good night.”

    I thanked him, and as I watched him stumble out of my room, I realized just how lucky I am. When most brothers are woken in the middle of the night by their stupid little sister, pounding away at the walls beneath their room, they’d come downstairs just to yell and bellow and shut her up. But not my brother. He comes downstairs to fix my problems, to patch it up, to make it all better. Steven’s wonderful that way; so kind, unassuming, and generous. I honestly don’t know why some woman hasn’t snatched him up already. Not many men would do that at 3:00 in the morning. I’m a lucky girl to have a brother like that, but you know what? I’m even luckier, because I have three brothers like that, all of whom have gallantly saved me in a multitude of sticky situations. They’re wonderful that way. Every girl should be so lucky.