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When my cousin Patrick was born I was still a fairly young child but old enough to sort of remember him as a baby so I'd say about four or six years old. If he still lived in the state I'd probably know how old he was and then I could do some simple subtraction but my aunt was smart enough to escape Utah so I have to estimate.

Patrick was spoiled from a young age. Having no father figure at any point my grandparents helped my aunt give him everything he wanted.
... most spoiled brat children at least learn how to behave so they can control people but I suppose he wasn't that clever.

He's basically like a twelve year old kid on AOL excep that he acts like that in real life. The !11!1! at the end of every sentence translates into whining about anything he ever doesn't want to do and then pouting and trying his best not to do it anyway once someone makes him do it. His endurance against people who obviously can and will make him do something is somewhat impressive but it quickly adds to the stagnant feeling you get when riding long distances in a cramped car.

After a long spell of isolation I was invited to Texas. I was interested in seeing him as a somewhat more mature young boy but the only thing that grew was his ego. Well, his muscles were developed enough that he had begun to get a taste of the concept that children who are older than other children by a year or two are generally stronger.
Most kids don't understand that this trend goes on and only slows down in your twenties unless they've had alot of demonstration. They usually catch on but he was always sure he could equal me.

Exposition: My grandfather had been a fairly decent way to gage the differnce between strong people and little kids for me.
He taught karate classes (Shotokan I think,) since my dad was little. There was a trophy wall in the basement and everything.
Like many grandfathers he spent alot of time telling me stories. One of these was about a time that he was younger and would go to bars and armwrestle. As the well disciplined martial artist that he was he could detach himself and just let anyone else strain as hard as they could without budging his arm; once they were tired out he'd just slam them down without much effort.

My cousin was trying to prove he was stronger than me again and so I would basically manuver him around until I could lock my arms or legs and leave him unable to do anything but move his neck a bit. I kept trying to make him give up be he would valiantly cry "NEVAR!" and attempt to thrash about. Eventually he said he gave up but as soon as I let him go he climbed to his feet and said that he had fooled me (???, I didn't really expect him to be done with it but I didn't think he was going to play the invincable game.) So he lunged at me again and in a fraction of the time I had been messing with him before I had him in the same position.
`Ok, be warned- he thinks people aren't smarter than he is-
He tried to `fake` give-up again.
I guess because I like to prove to anyone who tries to establish themselves as a rival that I'm well beyond them I made the 'I give up' sequence very long and involve alot of statements that he wasn't lieing and that he also wasn't lieing about not lieing (damn it took him a long time to get the point of what I was doing,) until I noticed the mild look of fear that came over his face when he began to realize that I was bigger and alot more patient than he was.

He probably only gave up on the idea of squirming around in contact with me until I was 'defeated' because his mother made him stop but I could still see that he wanted to prove himself (he was flat out stating that he would have won if it went on and trying to boast his way past me. That I could tell was an understatement,) so I suggested armwrestling. He seemed reluctant so I would have to convince him of limits on my own strength. Because he was such a DragonBallZ fan (this was last year by the way,) I said I'd only use half my power and he perked right up.
...
Now, I'm far from conditioned in any way (except maybe with some of the skills involving in video games,) but I knew I could do this the way my grandfather did it so without much effort I let him wear himself out hoping to cement a fragment of the concept of humility into his head and let his arm almost fall backwards by it's own weight.
...
He got upset and called me a cheater. I was only supposed to "use half my strength," but had I done that I probably would have just slammed his prepubecent arm right from the start so I let him know that what I did was closer to a quarter. It was then that I saw a glimmer of understanding in his face. The surprized look was well worth putting up with him for the entire last week but he quickly forgot the lesson. Whether it was once I left or before I am unsure.

Note: noone reads my journal anyway so I'll fill in the actual first half some other time.