Big Brother Oh Brother
Not the government, my big brother, six years my senior, idiot (not you, him). I have the feeling that when I was born, his life's goal was all about getting me placed with another family or at least injured enough to be less than amusing to my parents. I'm not sure what happened in the younger years, but I'm sure there were 'events' that only he knows about. Here is what I can remember:
Charlie Horses, Indian Burns, being shot with the BB gun with only one or two pumps (not kidding), being asleep and waking to see a flaming hand - the result of using a lighter to fill ones hand then igniting it - cool affect - scary as all get out.
Being convinced or TWO YEARS that I was Jewish and going to hell for not being baptized.
Being instructed to see what happens when you pour Slime on a light bulb (hint: the light bulb blows the hell up. - Mom and Dad LOVE this!). Being persuaded (god I was dumb) to fire up the Kiddy Fondue Set in my room with the long multi-colored pink shag rug, only to have it tip over THEN being persuaded to use the vacuum cleaner to clean it up.
Speaking of vacuum cleaners, here's a two parter: Part I: Getting into an argument about who is doing more chores - I can remember him spending 30 minutes dusting the TV then me throwing the fireplace shovel at him, missing and him throwing it back and nailing me in the forehead, Part II: Next night, while I'm using the shop vac also known as R2D2 to vacuum the stairs, he appears at the top of the stairs and shoves it towards me, lands the same damn spot as the shovel - I should have been drooling and spinning in circles by that time.
Him taking apart my Mr. Microphone (remember the commercial?) and me paying him back by breaking my Cinderella mirror over his head.
Being locked out of the house on the other side of a screen door. Threatening to put my fist through the door, being called on aforementioned threat and having to make good. I broke the glass and then we and when I say we, I mean he, decided to remove all the glass because and I quote, "No one will ever know and in the meantime, we can get it fixed." (yes, cause we have an account at the hardware store AND bicycles - idiot.) Dad came home, opened the door, noticed the lack of wind resistance and we were toast.
The best for last: in the back yard - (where the hell were my parents??) my shoes were tied together, I was instructed to make it across a section of the yard. I started hopping, tripped and landed on a rock sticking out of the group, split my knee wide open. Here's the good part. After I untie my shoes, I hobble back to the house where I am instructed to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets the needle and thread - seriously, I sat there and waited - had I known about Tequila I would have placed an order. Moments away from being stitched up Mom and Dad came home. I got in just as much trouble for going along with the plan.
For all of this, I know that in a pinch I can dig down and become quite scrappy and karma is a 'you-know-what'.
Charlie Horses, Indian Burns, being shot with the BB gun with only one or two pumps (not kidding), being asleep and waking to see a flaming hand - the result of using a lighter to fill ones hand then igniting it - cool affect - scary as all get out.
Being convinced or TWO YEARS that I was Jewish and going to hell for not being baptized.
Being instructed to see what happens when you pour Slime on a light bulb (hint: the light bulb blows the hell up. - Mom and Dad LOVE this!). Being persuaded (god I was dumb) to fire up the Kiddy Fondue Set in my room with the long multi-colored pink shag rug, only to have it tip over THEN being persuaded to use the vacuum cleaner to clean it up.
Speaking of vacuum cleaners, here's a two parter: Part I: Getting into an argument about who is doing more chores - I can remember him spending 30 minutes dusting the TV then me throwing the fireplace shovel at him, missing and him throwing it back and nailing me in the forehead, Part II: Next night, while I'm using the shop vac also known as R2D2 to vacuum the stairs, he appears at the top of the stairs and shoves it towards me, lands the same damn spot as the shovel - I should have been drooling and spinning in circles by that time.
Him taking apart my Mr. Microphone (remember the commercial?) and me paying him back by breaking my Cinderella mirror over his head.
Being locked out of the house on the other side of a screen door. Threatening to put my fist through the door, being called on aforementioned threat and having to make good. I broke the glass and then we and when I say we, I mean he, decided to remove all the glass because and I quote, "No one will ever know and in the meantime, we can get it fixed." (yes, cause we have an account at the hardware store AND bicycles - idiot.) Dad came home, opened the door, noticed the lack of wind resistance and we were toast.
The best for last: in the back yard - (where the hell were my parents??) my shoes were tied together, I was instructed to make it across a section of the yard. I started hopping, tripped and landed on a rock sticking out of the group, split my knee wide open. Here's the good part. After I untie my shoes, I hobble back to the house where I am instructed to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets the needle and thread - seriously, I sat there and waited - had I known about Tequila I would have placed an order. Moments away from being stitched up Mom and Dad came home. I got in just as much trouble for going along with the plan.
For all of this, I know that in a pinch I can dig down and become quite scrappy and karma is a 'you-know-what'.
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