A fifth grade experience

I don't know if I'm too old for my toys or if they are too old for me.
My mom keeps telling me to get my brother, when it isn't my responsibility.
All I want to do is just run around and play.
Give me some candy, turn on the tv and I'll be happy.
I don't really have much to say or do after that.
I may be hungry in between times, but I won't eat much.
I'm growing up. I can hear my voice changing. It's all squeaky.
My mom thinks it's cute, but I don't know what's wrong with me.
I'll be a young man, but I don't want to grow up.

All the noise in the house bugs me.
Now that I have this new role of "big brother" it seems to have
taken more of a toll on me than I imagined.
Every time I turned around, I hear mom yelling at me to do something.
I'm too young to clean. All I want to do is be a kid.
What's going on here? Is this supposed to be happening?

Ok, things are smoothing out.
I see why mom has been yelling so much lately.
She's trying to make me the man of the house.
But does she not understand that I'm not yet a man.
Not with this voice anyway.
My room is a mess
My brother is weeping louder than the passing fire engine.
Covering my ears won't help.
I need to get away.
Are these emotions even suitable for my age.
It saddens me.
I'm too young to be depressed.
This sharp object may do the trick.
But who would I leave behind?
Who would I see when I go.
I don't know what to do ...
Mom catches me ...
belt in hand ...