Before I begin explaining the events of that August, let me first start off by saying in no way am I undermining the seriousness of the situation.
For as long as I can remember, Brenden has spouted nonsense about being a peak physical specimen, so at some point into my adulthood, the moment my father had mentioned what transpired while Brenden was still in the womb, it became an ammunition of sorts, which we would frequently use against him.
For starters, contrary to the majority of people, my younger brother really didn't say or do a whole lot of things that could be made fun of; if anything, I respected him on a fundamental level; however, that didn't mean I was above hitting him below the belt when the opportunity presented itself.
Allow me to set the scene for you…
August 8th, 1993, in a doctor's office, Amanda is positioned on one of those weird OBGYN tables, shirt rolled up as a female doctor scrolls a small device over her exposed tummy.
