When he grew up, he was going to be like his big brother.
Tall. Proud. Sturdy. Up to the task.
For now, he had to comfort himself with the benefits of smaller stature.
Getting into nooks and crannies, fitting where his brother could not bend or fold to reach.
When he grew up, he was going to be like his brother.
Heavily bristled. Proudly mustached.
Meanwhile, Brush put his still-short-bristles to good use through many chores.
This way, once grown, he could graduate to being a Broom.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Brush in 87 words