I hate my brother’s kids. He and his wife have a five year old and an infant. They don’t take care of either one. They both work full time and both children were planned. Instead, my mom and 85 year old grandma take turns caring for them. The five year old is a loud, demanding brat. She was an angelic baby, and about a month before she turned two, she turned into a little turd and has stayed that way. The infant is one of those kids that screams the moment the person holding him tries to sit down and won’t sleep for more than five minutes. My mom and grandma have no time for anyone else. They never made such concessions for my son. When he was an infant, I had to beg then to watch him for even an hour. He hardly ever fussed, was a complacent, cheerful toddler and is extremely low maintenance. But they didn’t want him. Still don’t. it’s because he’s mine. They can’t spare a moment for a phone call, even. I’m supposed to love my brother’s kids, but the truth is, I resent their existence. My brother stole our parents’ love when he was born and now his bratty kids have stolen it from my son.