The Party Pooper

When I was in the seventh grade, my parents decided to take a weekend vacation to see some friends who lived a few hours away. They thought about getting a babysitter for my younger brother and me, but I told them I could handle the responsibility. I was too old for a babysitter! Besides, I wanted to prove to my parents that they could trust me with my little brother. My brother has a disease called diabetes, and he has to be given shots of insulin every day to control the disease. He needs someone to test his blood, look at the test results, and know how much insulin to give him. He has had diabetes since he was four and I was eight, so I knew how to take care of him. After several long conversations between the two of them, my parents decided to give me a chance. I was so excited to be in charge of the whole house, not to mention my brother. I promised I wouldn’t let them down.

Saturday came and after packing their bags, my parents wrote down all the phone numbers we could possibly need and kissed us good-bye. My brother and I were the only two in the house. Freedom! First we decided to watch a movie we had rented, and then we played a video game for a while. We were just about to order a pizza when the phone rang. It was my best friend. She told me that she had been invited to a huge party a few blocks away. This party was being thrown by some of the older kids at school, and she asked if I would come with her.

I really wanted to go to this party. Not only would the cool older kids be there, but my best friend was relying on me to go so she wouldn't have to go alone. The party was only a few blocks away. What could possibly happen? After thinking for a few minutes, I realized the answer to my question: my brother could have a diabetic reaction. This sometimes happens when the chemicals in his body get out of balance. He needs someone there to test him and give him extra insulin right away or he could end up in the hospital. But he only has a reaction a few times a year, I told myself. The chances of his having one tonight are very small. Surely he’ll be fine. Plus, I can just give him my cell phone number, and he can call me if he needs to. I called my best friend back and told her I would go with her. My brother was not happy I was leaving him alone, but I told him it would only be for a little while.

As my best friend and I walked to the party, I thought about what I was doing. Not only was I breaking my promise to my parents, I was also putting my little brother in danger. What if he did have a reaction, and he was too sick or too scared to call me in time? Getting in trouble with my parents was one thing, but causing my brother to land in the hospital was quite another. I couldn't do that to him. It wasn’t his fault he was sick, and I could be making it worse by leaving him. He was too important to me. Going to a party wasn't worth the price of his possibly getting really sick.

So, I turned around and went back home. My brother was so excited to see me, and I convinced him that I was just joking all along. Only I knew the real story. Just like Bob quit smoking because he was worried about what he was doing to his family, I was worried about how my actions would affect my brother. And for me, the price was too high.